


Karma

by ElpisLumina



Category: Persona 5, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, BAMF Midoriya Izuku, Blood and Injury, F/M, Is a Persona a Quirk?, Mental Breakdown, Midoriya Izuku Does Not Have One for All Quirk, Midoriya Izuku Has a Quirk, Midoriya Izuku Needs A Hug, Persona 5 Spoilers, Psychological Trauma, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, The Persona 5 Plot Happened in MHA
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 52,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23750851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElpisLumina/pseuds/ElpisLumina
Summary: On probation and barred from any hero courses due to his record, Midoriya Izuku struggles with keeping his head down. At least his probation officer was nice enough, so maybe it wouldn't be too bad. All he needed was to survive one year without incident. (MHA/Persona 5 Fusion)
Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Toga Himiko, Midoriya Izuku/Uraraka Ochako
Comments: 81
Kudos: 209





	1. A streak of bad luck

Izuku raised his hand for the fourth time in two minutes, taking a deep breath to steel his nerves. It was futile. The wooden door in front of him seemed like an insurmountable gate. The glass window reflected his largely regrown, but yet shorter than he was comfortable with hair, the muted green dark green color it used to had faded closer to black.

The sign in the front said ‘OPEN’, and yet he couldn’t—

It opened all on its own.

Izuku blinked, his eyes moving up to meet the eyes of the man that had opened the door for him. A mop of black hair sat on a sharp face, with eyes surrounded by thick, circular glasses that looked more like a stylistic choice.

“If you don’t come in soon, you’ll scare away the other customers.”

Izuku looked around. The alley, as lively as it likely was early in the morning during communes and perhaps during the evenings, did not look like it’d really be the best place to make money. It was

“You were thinking something rude, weren’t you?” the man asked. Izuku’s back straightened, before raising his hands in defense.

“N-no, sir!” Izuku said, perhaps just a bit too fast, as he ended up biting his tongue. Following the man into the café, he found himself looking at everything except the other person. From the beautiful ‘Le Blanc II’ sign, written in cursive Latin letters, to the polished bright wooden countertop in front of the wall of coffee beans. The entire café smelled distinctly of coffee, as was expected, but with a note of something more. His nose twitched as he recognized the smell. “Curry?”

“The best you’ll find in the entire city,” the man said in a way that made it hard for Izuku to do anything but take him by his word. He turned around, and without the morning sun glaring down on them, Izuku managed to get a better look at him. Tall, certainly taller than most people, wearing an apron and with a soft smile that Izuku couldn’t place. “You’re Midoriya, right?”

“Yessir!” Izuku said, straightening again and bowing. “Midoriya Izuku, I’ll be in your care.”

“None of that ‘sir’.” The man waved him off. The motion drew attention to the ring on his finger. Married? No, that was the wrong finger. “I’m Amamiya Ren; just call me Ren. I admit, you weren’t really what I expected when I was told about you.”

Izuku would have liked to say the same. Amamiya Ren, as his new guardian for the next year or so, seemed much less approachable from the description he had received. What stood in front of him wasn’t a warden, and using those as measuring stick for adults should be avoided.

“I suppose we’ll have to talk about rules for your probation,” Ren said, humming. Izuku flinched, unable to meet his eyes at the reminder of his presence here. “But that can wait. Come, I’ll show you to your room.”

Izuku followed, not one sound escaping his lips. He had to be strong. Stronger than he’d ever been. It was what his mother would have wanted. The room at the top of the stairs that were hidden behind the kitchen led up to a rather spacious room. A desk had been prepared, as well as a bed and a small TV. The walls were barren, however, and though the room was overall very clean, the bright spring sun that forced its way into the room via a window above the bed revealed more than enough dust to take care of before this could really be called a bedroom.

The gray uniform hanging next to the door opened a pit in his stomach.

Izuku dropped his things next to the desk, turning to Ren. The man's fingers were twitching, itching towards the cleaning supplies which lay wayward in the corner of the room. Izuku coughed slightly, resisting the sneeze that was building up in his nose.

“So,” Ren said after a moment, watching the dust around Izuku’s bag settle down. “Rule number one. I don’t think I have to tell you this, but keep your head down, alright?”

Izuku nodded. As it were, that’s the first rule he always heard. “Yeah…”

“Rule number two,” Ren began, raising two fingers. “Take school seriously. This isn’t just well-meant advice. One of the conditions of your probation is exemplary work. You’ve scored well on the entrance exams, so people will expect you to continue this performance.”

“I know,” Izuku said, perhaps a bit too fast.

“Rule three,” Ren began once more, pulling something out of his pockets. Keys, a notebook, and his phone. Izuku blinked at him, taking the offered keys after a moment of hesitation. The notebook was put on his desk. “You have to keep a report of your daily activities in this. I’ll check it once in a while. Just in case you want to go out during the evening, you can lock the doors with this, and I need your phone number for emergencies.”

Izuku held back from saying that it sounded more like rule three, four, and five, taking his phone out and exchanging numbers.

If it wasn’t for his circumstances, he’d be more happy with the second number in his phone as a sign of progress.

“Alright, that’s that.” Ren pocketed his phone. “School starts next week, right? We’ll have to go there to talk to the principal and your homeroom teacher. I hope I don’t have to tell you how to make yourself presentable.”

“I’ll manage, errr, Ren-san,” Izuku said. “I… wanted to ask, on Saturday—”

“You don’t need to ask for my permission,” Ren said, and Izuku’s mouth snapped shut with a click. He put a hand on Izuku’s shoulder, and though the boy shrunk into himself, he relaxed quickly when no pain came from the touch. “I’ll drive you, even. I have a friend who works there.”

Izuku nodded, thankful.

“Anyway, you must be hungry.”

Izuku wanted to say he was not. He hadn’t had much of an appetite for a while now. But he would be lying if he said that the smell of cooking curry from the kitchen wasn’t causing his stomach to make itself known.

“Thank you,” Izuku said, tearing up. Accepting kindness was difficult for him. It was not a given. It had not _been_ a given for a long time. While the court dates stretched on, he hadn’t been in school since the incident. He hadn’t seen anyone who wasn’t dismissive of or outright disgusted at his mere presence in a long time. Ren’s hand moved up from Izuku’s shoulder to his head, exerting gentle pressure.

“Not for that,” Ren said, and though Izuku’s vision was blurry and his gaze downcast, he could hear the soft smile in the man’s voice. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re much of a criminal. I’ve met some of those, and none of them ever said yes to my curry.”

###

The curry tasted of chocolate flakes and tears. Izuku was lying in his room after finishing the cleanup, Ren helping out in places where he couldn’t reach to get the place a bit more livable. The U.A. uniform was mocking him from the wall. A grey jacket over a white shirt, and pants that couldn’t decide whether they were dark green or dark blue depending on the light.

It was obvious, in hindsight, that someone who had committed a crime, would not be eligible to become a hero. He could have a quirk that could cure every disease and it would not be enough in the eye of society.

He was, after all, just some delinquent with a record. Or perhaps not just a delinquent.

A lot of people were convinced he was a bonafide criminal. And after being told so for a while, it was difficult to deny the description.

And _still_.

 _Still_ he was going to U.A. as a general education student. Not out of his desire to do so, as he would have picked every other school after the miserable past year he had, but as a _court order_.

A court order that saw him to probation instead of a year of juvenile detention by recommendation of All Might, who had fought tooth and nail as a character witness, and was _still_ unable to truly save him.

His hand found his face, grasping tightly as he wiped down his face. Though Ren said he’d rather Izuku focus on his studies, the short introduction to the kitchen had made his decision for him. He’d help out in the store, it’s the least he could do, after all. Working with his hands would be a welcome distraction.

Izuku wasn't sure what his expectations for his new... handler were. Probation officer seemed too small of a word. Ren was way friendlier than he had expected, but his demeanor spoke of someone who valued diligence. He would go as far as saying that he enjoyed talking to him. It was _easy_ to talk to him. Relaxing.

As he drifted off, Izuku found himself facing the same nightmares.

Over and over again.

Holding his mother’s hands as the judge declared him guilty.

How even before that verdict, people had treated him like a criminal.

How his school had expelled him.

How Bakugou—

He drifted off into nothing.

###

It was Friday. School would start on Monday.

Despite that, he had put his uniform on. It felt like sandpaper on his skin. He clenched his teeth, all the comfort from the earlier hot shower leaving him immediately. It just kept adding up. An unfamiliar ceiling, an unfamiliar bed, an unfamiliar smell in the morning.

Who made curry for breakfast?

He walked down the stairs and found Ren in his usual apron, humming as he finished up the pot of curry. A plate was in front of Izuku before he could say good morning. A cup of coffee followed.

“There’s a slight chance of plans,” Ren said. Izuku’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t have—”

The bell at the café’s front door rang, causing them to raise their heads towards the person. A woman walked in, and though he didn’t want to, the design of the costume and helmet made Izuku’s heart skip a beat.

A biker outfit with a distinct design; spikes on the shoulders and knees, as well as heavy leather boots with visible steel soles wrapped around the bottom. While the outfit itself was _simple_ in a way, the corset-like top and over-the-top long scarf, as well as the knight-looking helmet, made her stand out even among other biker-themed heroes!

It was one of Tokyo’s top heroines, after all!

“Yo, Makoto,” Ren said. A loud whistling noise made him look back to his can of hot water, which was not on the stove anymore. It took him a moment to realize that the noise came from Izuku’s throat. “I think he’s a fan.”

She took off the helmet, smiling at them, revealing brown hair in a prim and proper bob haircut that was somehow not affected whatsoever by the bulky helmet that now lay in her arms.

“Good morning,” she said, nodding at Izuku. “Midoriya-kun, right? I’ll get you to U.A. today.”

Izuku turned away from the pro hero, facing his guardian with a silent question. Ren nodded.

“As I was saying, slight change of plans. An emergency came up so I asked Makoto here if she could give you a ride.”  
  


“I—I couldn’t!” he said, waving his hands. “Aren’t heroes busy? I wouldn’t want to, I’m not—I’m—”

“Deep breaths,” Ren ordered, his eye twinkling. Izuku did as ordered, slowly sucking in the curry-filled air around him before fumbling with his bag and taking out a notebook, almost dropping it from his shaky fingers. Fortunately he had not grabbed Ren's notebook for his report.

“C-can I get your autograph!?”

Queen, or Makoto as Ren called her, grew red in the face. It was a stark contrast to her "Justice has been served" kind of persona she put on during interviews after capturing a villain. For a moment, he saw All Might in her. The two sides of a pro hero. Ren laughed, putting another plate of curry next to Izuku’s and bustling off to prepare another cup of coffee. Makoto, meanwhile, had only reluctantly taken the notebook and pen before giving her signature.

“It’s good to be in good spirits,” Makoto said, handing it back to him. “I suppose we haven’t been properly introduced yet. I’m Nijima Makoto. You know me as Queen. Ren and I are old friends.”

“Midoriya Izuku, I’m a big fan!” Izuku said, just a tad bit too loud for such early morning hours. “It’s an honor to meet you, ma’am! N-Nijima-saaaa—”

He trailed off, furrowing his eyebrows. Makoto didn’t notice it, though Ren stopped for a moment to address him.

“She’s Sae’s sister,” Ren supplied. Izuku frowned. It wasn’t like last names were _unique_ in any way, though genealogy documentaries showed that the Japanese had habits of slowly morphing their names into things that reflected their quirks better. “I hope that’s not an issue.”

“No,” Izuku said, losing his appetite. Regardless, he was too polite to decline the breakfast, as heavy as it was, and sat down to eat. “It’s fine.”

Makoto took the seat next to him, eating in silence for a few minutes more before finding the words she wanted to say.

“You’re angry,” Makoto surmised. Izuku’s spoon stopped over the plate.

“I’m not,” Izuku said. He meant it. He really did. But he could also see why she would think so. “Your sister’s not… not the one at fault. It was my fault.”

“I disagree,” Makoto said, shaking her head. Izuku’s spoon dropped out of his hands. “It’s one of those things where, even if you’ve broken the letter of the law, I feel like you shouldn’t have ended up in that situation. Didn’t All Might himself speak in your favor?”

“Yeah,” Izuku said, frowning at his plate. Whether that was out of some misguided attempt after his harsh words had shattered Izuku’s dreams, or perhaps a feeling of guilt for dropping the Sludge villain, he couldn’t tell. In the end, people would draw their own conclusions. At one point, Izuku could’ve sworn, the mood in the court room seemed to worsen at All Might’s presence. “I’m sorry, Ren-san. I’m not very hungry in the morning.”

“That’s fine,” Ren said, taking the plate without much fuss. Makoto had not finished her plate either. “You’ll be early if you go now; the principal might appreciate that.”

He looked at the clock hanging off the kitchen wall. 5AM. If the meeting was supposed to be at six; he’d be able to make it even if he took the train.

“I can go by myself if—”

Makoto shut him up with a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

###

Queen was, not unlike her name, a rather _regal_ kind of presence in the pro hero charts. Despite that, her driving style was exactly the same as what her battle style had been described as.

Nerve-wracking and dangerous. The streets were mostly empty this early in the morning, but he had the feeling that even if they weren’t, she wouldn’t have held back one bit. He wasn’t sure if heroes were really exempt from speed limits in their off-hours, but Makoto certainly drove like she was. It took all his energy not to let go of her.

It didn’t help that her ride, a part of her quirk if he remembered correctly (and Izuku always remembered people’s quirks correctly), caused energy to spark around them as she accelerated.

He only screamed for a solid minute before he ran out of breath.

Hopefully his uniform would be still intact after this.

They arrived at the gates of the school to find another pro hero waiting for them. Had he not been so dazed, Izuku would have been more than inclined to ask Ectoplasm for an autograph. The man stood in a long mantle that hid everything from his collarbone downwards except for the prosthetic stubs that replaced his legs.

The pitch black, yellow striped helmet that revealed nothing but his mutated lipless mouth and empty white eyes, looked intimidating. The row of teeth, bigger than any average person’s, looked dangerously close to a smile when the man’s head bowed down.

Stumbling behind Makoto and taking off the helmet she had given him, Izuku ended up having to lean onto the woman as she helped him through the gate.

“Good morning,” Ectoplasm greeted them. Izuku felt his gaze piercing into him, trying his best to stand up straight. “That the kid?”

“That’s him,” Makoto confirmed. Touching one of the spikes on her costume was enough to get him out of his daze, straightening his back and bowing to the man.

“G-good morning!” Izuku said. “I’ll be in your care.”

Ectoplasm’s gaze lingered on him for a moment before he turned around, leading them on. Izuku could’ve sworn he’d heard him mutter a curse about something, but his ears were still ringing slightly. Perhaps it was about him. People cursed a lot when they saw him.

Farther and farther, they were led into the school. The campus began with a simple yard, from which various places could be seen. The tall building that stood in their H-shape, places for students to sit and enjoy the sun, as well a sports grounds for various different sports.

He could see it. All these classrooms that he’d dreamed of for years. The beautiful view from the higher floors down towards the gate as they ended up taking the elevator. The suffocating air in the highest floor of the building. The menacing door of the principal’s office, made from hardwood with a golden plate saying exactly what it was.

Ectoplasm opened the door for them, Makoto strode in, her heels clicking confidently on the office’s marble floor. In comparison, Izuku’s worn red sneakers scuffed hesitantly as he forced himself to follow, heels dragging slightly on every footstep. As he passed the threshold, he felt more than heard Ectoplasm enter, shutting the door behind them all. Izuku _knew_ about Principal Nezu. The… ostensibly mammalian quirk holder who had been principal for longer than most people cared to ask was watching him with a critical eye. They ended up sitting across him, Ectoplasm standing off to the side.

“Hello, Midoriya Izuku,” Principal Nezu greeted him. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“N-no, thank you, sir,” Izuku said, bowing his head. “Thank you for giving me this chance.”

Another curse from Ectoplasm and a moment of silence later, Nezu pushed forward a few documents.

“We have something of a rule here in U.A.,” Nezu began, smiling. His mannerisms were almost childlike, fitting with his appearance but not with the position. “As we wish for people to unleash their full potential and become what they’re meant to be, we don’t care much about the past. We expect you to behave yourself appropriately, as a student of this premier high school, both inside and outside of the school grounds.”

Izuku looked over the documents. The first one was a simple reprint of the school rules that he had seen in the student’s handbook, the second was appropriately titled ‘probation conditions’. The third form was a guardianship form.

“This one…” Izuku’s hand shook as he tapped it. “Is for Ren—err, Amamiya-san?”

“Yes. It’s fine for you to bring it with you on Monday, just give it to Ectoplasm. He’ll be your homeroom teacher for Class 1-C.”

Izuku nodded, signing the other two papers quickly and pushing them towards the principal before putting the last form into his bag.

“One year,” Nezu said, stressing the words. “Say, Midoriya-kun, do you want to make a small bet with me?”

“A-a bet, sir?” Izuku asked, coughing. Sucking in air through his nose, he tried to steel himself, but still released the breath with a shudder.

“It’s nothing big,” Nezu insisted, though Izuku could see Makoto roll her eyes in the corner of his vision. “Just a simple thing, a chance because I want you to understand that I mean it when I say ‘U.A. does not care about the past’.”

“I-if you’d be so kind as to tell me the conditions, I would be more than happy to think about it,” Izuku said, diplomatically. It was something that had been drilled into him by his… roommates back in the facility. Do not promise anything before you know what it is.

“If you keep your head out of trouble for one year, the probation period will be over. I’ll have the record removed personally, and it will be as if you had never been charged.”

Izuku choked on his own spit, coughing wildly. Makoto slapped his back a few times, perhaps stronger than she should have, but it didn’t take too long for him to calm down. Though red-faced now, he still looked up at the principal, whose eyes were twinkling in amusement.

“You… would go that far for me?” Izuku asked. He wouldn’t even ask if that were possible. If anyone could do it, it ought to be the principal of the best hero school in the country, right? “Really?”

“It’s a bet,” Nezu said, clasping his paws together. “It’s our duty as adults to make the world a better place for students, and it’s our failure when people of your age are treated the same way we treat villains. This is your chance to prove them wrong, isn’t it?”

All Might had said something similar, back then. In a way, though the man had spoken words of apology, Izuku had trouble truly accepting them.

“One year,” Izuku whispered. One year of not being stupid. One year of not doing something senseless like helping someone in need. He twitched, the pit in his stomach growing and hunching over. “Thank you.”

The uniform felt heavier than ever.

###

Izuku went up to his room when he arrived back home. Makoto had taken over the kitchen as Ren was gone for the day.

He was torn.

_**One year.** _

He held his head, falling onto his bed with a soft thud. One day was all it had taken to destroy his dreams, breaking first his heart and then his future. But…

_**One year of not helping someone in need.** _

Was it wrong?

Was it _really_ wrong what he did? Would it have been right to just let someone die?

“ _Obstruction of Heroes is a serious crime, only separated by one degree from ‘aiding and abetting Villains’. Do you understand?”_

“Yes, Nijima-san,” Izuku muttered to himself. How could he have said it in a way that sounded convincing when even she didn’t sound convinced by it?

He knew she had just been doing her job. He knew that as a lawyer, she had been trying her best to get something reasonable out of a bad situation. He knew, objectively, that if she’d had a chance to argue for the case to be dropped and leniency to be granted, she _would_ have.

He knew, after all, that All Might had and failed.

“ _They will make you into an example, and you mustn’t let them be right.”_

_**Is this really what a hero would do?** _

What _would_ a hero do?

Apparently let him get arrested for trying to save someone in need. Is this what a hero really is?

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud bang. His body moving faster than his mind, he rushed down the stairs to find Makoto in front of a now mostly empty pot and a wall full of… whatever she had tried to cook.

She had taken her costume off during his time in his room, making her look way more normal and less intimidating. Not that it was possible to look intimidating when splattered with food. Izuku noticed a ring on her index finger, the same as Ren’s.

“I turned the heat up too high,” she admitted at his confused stare. “I’m… going to clean this up. But I’m afraid I burned through half his ingredients. Could I bother you for a moment?”

“I can clean it!” Izuku said. She shook her head.

“My soup, my mess. I think it’d be better if you bought some stuff. Not just for the shop but for yourself, too. Ren might be able to live on curry alone, but I don’t think a growing boy should have to suffer through that.”

He didn’t have much of a choice when she all but hurled her wallet at him. It would be a good chance to really get used to the neighborhood, he supposed.

“He’s got a list somewhere on the fridge—”

Izuku spotted it, taking it off the fridge and pocketing it before walking towards the door. He gave one last glance at Makoto, who was staring at the food plastering the wall with an expression more suited aimed at a villain she’d brought to their knees than a mess to be cleaned up.


	2. Peace and quiet

The neighborhood, which spanned a rather long and uneven road all the way down towards a connecting main street. Besides the small shops that either were tucked away in smaller ways off the side, or conveniently placed within stalls to leave just enough space for people to walk through, there were buildings that could not be quite called houses, but were too small to really call apartments. Their state reflected the image of the rest of the street, largely worn down in various colors that had long since turned darker with dust and dirt. While it was not too far from one of the train stations leading further into the city, it felt entirely different from the suburbs that he used to live in.

Despite all that, it felt cozy. There was a hospital nearby, though perhaps calling it that was generous. It was a small building, which had the words ‘Takeuchi Hospital’ in large print above the door, likely not enough beds to really have much of a staff. Besides a doctor and a single nurse, Izuku had never seen anyone else when he passed it. The biggest surprise was a convenience store from the relatively well-known 777 chain, which couldn’t see much business here. At one end of the alley sat the vegetable stand that he recalled, selling fresh vegetables. Izuku had been dreading his arrival at Le Blanc (II, for some reason) and hadn’t looked around too much. Ren’s friendliness made it difficult not to open up, and as some people began their way to their morning commutes, their greetings towards each other gave the neighborhood a homely feel.

It was not _home_ , but… maybe something that could be home.

There was even a gym, which was the last thing he expected to find so far away from the hotspots of the city.

Walking towards the vegetable stand, he found himself facing a woman with a large horn that originated from the left side of her head, pointing at him in an angry red color. “Good morning.”

“Mornin’,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Yer Ren’s new charge, ain’t ye?”

The accent threw him off. He took a second to parse what she said, pulling out the list from his pockets as a means to delay answering for a moment. Scratching the back of his head, he tried and failed to give her a smile.

“Y-yes, I’m Midoriya Izuku,” he said, stumbling over his words, trying his hardest not to stare at the horn. “I’m… here to buy groceries for the café.”

She took the list from his hands, nodding after a quick check. “The usual stuff, then.”

Not pushing his luck with a conversation, Izuku left the woman to bag the rather obscene amount of vegetables on the shopping list before paying with Makoto’s money. The weight was too much to really drag with him into the convenience store, so he made the decision to return to Leblanc for now.

He stumbled into the door and put the bags onto one of the wooden tables that had been lined up on the opposite wall of the countertop. Inside the kitchen corner hidden behind the counter, next to his stairs, Makoto was finishing up with the cleaning. She had washed her face and hair, though she was still wearing the stained apron that had protected her clothes from being hit as well. The wall itself, previously painted in a bright shade of brown, had darkened under the unkind mistrations of the liquid. It likely wouldn’t look proper until they painted over it.

“Welcome back,” she said, looking at the bags on the table. “Did you get everything?”

Izuku shook his head. “Too much at once, I’ll go to the convenience store next.”

“Ah, of course,” she said. He handed her the bags, one after another. She ended up stuffing half of everything into the fridge and the other half in a freezer under the counter on her side, she took off the gloves and apron she was wearing and washed her hands. “Ren said he’ll be late today, so I’ll come with you.”

They locked the door behind them, Makoto taking the lead as she walked down the alley towards the 777 store. Izuku resisted the urge to jump when the man at the register greeted them with a smile. Rather than stumble around trying to figure out where everything was, Izuku simply followed along.

Makoto barely looked at the prices, and considering the interior of her wallet, she likely rarely had to. While he was never interested in the financial aspect of pro heroism, the topic often came up in discussions about sponsorship deals, leaving the impression that people with larger agencies were generally well off.

Meeting a hero from out of town also raised some other questions, such as how Ren actually _knew_ her. In the end, he’d have to live with Ren for a good year, and asking him questions considering his position, for a lack of better word, in his life felt wrong. Did she used to live here? Did Ren live in Tokyo when they met? It must’ve shown on his face.

“Just ask,” Makoto said. He hoped she couldn’t read his mind. Or he had just asked it loudly by accident.

“Is Ren-san from Tokyo as well?” Izuku asked quickly. Makoto shook her head, her hands on two different brands of salt. Was he digging too hard? He was often shouted at for asking stupid questions, but if she wasn’t shouting-

“We became friends there,” Makoto answered. “But he’s from around here. He moved to Tokyo for a year during his second year of high school after an incident.”

“Ah,” Izuku said, nodding. “Incident?”

“He’ll tell you eventually.”

Izuku wasn’t sure if Makoto was actually deciding which to pick or just distracted by something else. She put one of the boxes away, not noticing that the bright blue brand didn’t belong in the second row. When she moved on to the next aisle, he quickly put it in its proper place. “You have somewhere to be tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah,” he said, trying his hardest not to look too apprehensive. “I’m… sorry if I ask too many questions. I’ve not had many people to talk to in a while.”

He felt _stupid_. He shifted his weight, his arms wrapping around his front, and his hands grasping his arms. His fingernails dug into his skin, leaving a sharp pain to help him focus. Makoto stopped, turning her head to give him a rather intimidating side-eye instead of looking down. Her expression shifted between a furrowed brow and a clenched jaw. It wasn’t quite hostile enough for him to call it resentful, not like a guard in the facility, but there was something that made him take a step back.

“Midoriya-kun,” Makoto said, stressing each syllable, her voice hard like steel. “It’s fine to ask questions. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to know more about people.”

Just, fine.

Though he understood that her words were meant to, if not comfort him, at the very least put him at ease, it felt like a scolding. He felt unfocused by the time they had stepped out of the store, carrying one of the bags too low and tripping over it. Something slapped his back, leaving him floating slightly off the ground rather than hit it with all his weight. The bags in his hands continued to listen to the laws of gravity and pulled him downwards, spinning him forward until his feet were pointing at the sky and the top of his head could touch the ground if he pulled himself up. Or down.

“Errr, Nijima-san,” Izuku said. He tried not to panic, but the sudden loss of his entire body weight was causing his breathing to increase uncomfortably. “Did I suddenly get a floating quirk?”

“I’m afraid not,” Makoto’s voice came from his left. She bent down, grabbing his collar and pulling him down… up. When his feet were back on the ground, he could see the person likely responsible for his sudden weightlessness, slapping her hands together. The weight returned, causing him to stumble for a moment. Makoto’s hand on his shoulder kept him upright. “Thank you.”

“All good!” the girl said, smiling at them. “Sorry for using my quirk on you so suddenly, I- is that an U.A. uniform!?”

Izuku blinked at the girl’s sudden outburst, forgetting to thank her himself and instead focusing on her words. He looked down, then up. He had forgotten to change after returning from the meeting with the principal. Fortunately the girl wasn’t asking why he was wearing it before the school year had even started.

A round face framed by auburn hair, with two bangs that stood out from the already wide haircut running down the sides of her face and reaching over her shoulders, and a bright smile that reached her equally auburn eyes.

“Y-yeah,” he said, his voice distant. “I’m… starting on Monday.”  
  


“That’s so cool! I heard it’s really hard to get into gen ed, they only take the top scoring people don’t they?” she said. Izuku didn’t have time to answer the question before she continued. “I’m going to U.A. too! Class 1-A!”

A hero aspirant, then. Izuku noted that Makoto shifted her weight slightly, her eyes on him as if to gauge his reaction. He felt something in him break, and yet he couldn’t help it. His own genuine smile spread on his face, the muscles in his face feeling weird over it. “That’s impressive! You must’ve scored well during the exam!”

“Kinda, I had some troubles with one of the bigger robots, but it worked out in the end!” the girl shouted proudly. A bit too proudly for the hour. Izuku looked around, noticing that no one in the mostly empty alley seemed to be bothered by the sound. “Ah, sorry, I’m Uraraka Ochako!”

“I’m Midoriya Izuku, and this is, er-”

He waved towards his babysitter for the day, not sure how to introduce her. Makoto took it off him.

“Nijima Makoto,” she said, bowing in greeting. “Midoriya-kun just moved here and I’m from out of town. Would you be so kind to help him find the train station on Monday?”

Izuku opened his mouth and closed it again. It was a very transparent attempt by Makoto to make him a friend, and while he appreciated it, there was something… wrong about it. About someone who had no right to be a hero and someone from the heroics department hanging out. Before he could voice his objection to the idea in the most polite way possible, Ochako had already approved of the idea.

“Of course,” Ochako said, giving two thumbs up, revealing what looked like dark pads on their tips. “Midoriya-san! Let's give it our all.”

“Just call me Izuku,” he said, almost out of reflex, before turning to Makoto. “You as well, Nijima-san. I’m… Midoriya’s my mom.”

“Alright then, Izuku,” Ochako tested the name for a moment, smiling in satisfaction at something he couldn’t see. “I’m Ochako, then.”

“O-Ochako-san.”

“He’ll get there,” Makoto said, smiling in return. “He lives in the Leblanc café just down there, in case you’re looking for him. Though if you want to meet up to go to school together you should get her number, Izuku.”

Ochako had already pulled out her phone. Izuku’s heart skipped a beat. Makoto nodded in approval, pulling out her own phone. It looked… sturdy. Sturdier than most people’s phones. Once Izuku had both of their numbers, they bid goodbye and went on their way.

“You don’t need to be so nervous when talking to people, Izuku,” Makoto said once Ochako was out of earshot. Izuku groaned. “Especially girls. It’s not that hard, just treat her like you did now and with less of a stutter.”

“That _is_ my every other person,” Izuku murmured. “I… don’t get along with people my age, Nijima-san. It’s just not something that has worked out for me.”

“Why can you talk to me, then? What’s different?” The way she asked portrayed genuine interest. Izuku wanted to lie, but he couldn’t. He frowned. What _did_ feel different with her?

“I’ve been talking with adults for ten months now,” Izuku answered, exhaustion audible in his voice. “It’s easier to talk to them. Just, don’t talk back, don’t look them in the eye when they’re angry at you, apologize when they get angry at you-”

“That’s… not a healthy way of thinking,” Makoto said, the corners of her lips twitching downwards. “I knew someone who behaved just like that, and there’s no way that’s going to make you happy in the long run. You’re not a machine, Izuku, you deserve as much respect as anyone else.”

‘ _Not anymore,’_ Izuku thought, stopping the words from leaving his lips. Despite that, whatever thoughts he had must’ve shown on his face as his eyes clouded over and his gaze turned towards the ground.

“When I heard they’re going to force you into counselling, I thought it was stupid.” Makoto’s voice didn’t rise, yet her hands balled into fists. “But you clearly need someone to talk to. I expect you to go once a week.”

“I… don’t really want to,” Izuku said slowly. He would have loved to say no. Makoto made it sound non-negotiable.

“Being helped doesn’t make you inadequate,” she said.

He wanted to argue that it wasn’t inadequacy. After all, his mother was-

Regardless. He didn’t want the help.

And yet it was like his mother was speaking through her. In an anger that surrounded concern. And it came from a stranger, someone he had known for less than a few hours. Someone who, by any metric, should not be concerned about him was showing him an absurd amount of kindness.

He could see how she rose up to become one of the most popular heroes in Tokyo now. She was harsh, but nevertheless approachable.

Makoto’s phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. Grabbing the bags and moving behind the counter, she began to put the spices into the rack on the opposite side of the stove, shoving what fruit they bought into the open spaces in the fridge. Makoto was talking with someone, and though he didn’t mean to eavesdrop, she wasn’t exactly quiet in her conversation.

“Yes, I arrived yesterday,” Makoto said into her phone. The voice on the other end was high pitched and excited, but Izuku could not make out any actual words. “There’s a good chance he will stay for a while longer if he’s after All Might.”

Izuku perked up at the mention. All Might being a teacher at U.A. had made national news, of course, but who’d be in the city because of him? Fans? Paparazzi? Reporters? He mumbled the possibilities until he reached the only logical conclusion.

“A villain?” Izuku asked himself quietly, unable to stop himself. Makoto turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop!”

“It’s fine. Oracle, I’ll call you back later,” Makoto said. “Yes, I know, I’ll be sure to remind him. We can make plans when I’m back.”

She hung up, sighing. Putting the phone away, she turned to Izuku.

“How much did you hear?”

“Nothing!” Izuku said quickly. Wasn’t he in trouble for listening in on her conversation? “I mean, only that there's someone in the city because of All Might and if you remove the usual suspects like paparazzis and fans who are more a mass of people instead of some singular person then the only real possibility that remains is some villain with a grudge that might target students of his- I mean, I am not- I’m sorry-”

“Izuku,” Makoto said, looking at him in confusion. “Take a deep breath. You’re not in trouble. If anything I’m impressed you’d think that far ahead. I’d have talked to you anyway once Ren is back. There’s a villain at large-”

Izuku would have asked why that’s out of the ordinary, but he didn’t want to interrupt her. Maybe Musutafu wasn’t as large as Tokyo, but there was never a day without some villain or other causing some mess.

“He’s made news lately, Hero Killer Stain,” Makoto continued. Izuku choked on his own spit at the name. A notorious serial killer who had made himself the talk of the past weeks, if he remembered correctly. Worse than that, he specifically targeted isolated heroes. The moniker Hero Killer was accurate, with a bodycount of over fifteen pro heroes, though his rampage had slowed over the weeks as heroes have begun to patrol in groups. “He moved around a lot, which made it hard to track him. I’d appreciate it if you could avoid loitering around at night. He hasn’t attacked civilians before, but you can never tell with criminals.”

“I, uh, understood,” Izuku said. Hero Killer Stain was after All Might? It… made sense, of course. All Might was also nomadic, in a way, and moving around all the time would make it hard for a villain to track him down, but now that he was accepting a teaching position, he would be easy to find-

“You need to add a filter between your thoughts and your mouth,” Makoto interrupted the flood of words that had spilled from his lips without him noticing. “I see your skill in reasoning wasn’t exaggerated. You’ll do fine in school.”

“Thanks?” he tried. She hesitated for a moment, her arm twitching. He resisted the urge to take a step backwards. “You’re here to protect All Might, then?”

“I don’t think he needs protection,” Makoto said, pursing her lips. She shook her head, the bob cut swaying around her face despite the slight movement. “But I’ve been on the Stain Investigation Unit for a while now. It’s… frustrating for someone who commits such high profile murders to escape justice for so long. And it reflects badly on me for not having stopped him earlier. If they didn’t force my hours, I’d probably be on patrol right now.”

Izuku said nothing. He wasn’t sure what one could say to something like this.

“Anyway, bread and soup for lunch is probably not the best, especially with how much I messed up today,” Makoto said. No one could be _that_ bad at cooking, could they? “We can order takeout instead.”

“I’m fine with soup,” Izuku said, his stomach rumbling slightly. “It’s easy on the stomach and I don’t eat a lot.”

“You should,” she said. “Eat a lot more, that is. You’re a growing teenager, it’s fine to indulge a bit once in a while. If you’re worried about your figure, you can always work out.”

“Yeah, I… saw the gym,” Izuku said. Makoto smiled.

“It’s owned by a friend of ours, too,” Makoto said. “I’ll introduce you to him one day. He moved here with Ren after graduation, they’re basically inseparable.”

“I’ll check it out when I have time,” Izuku said. Time. He looked at the clock. It wasn’t even midday yet. He hoped that school routine would help some. The dreaded boredom of a long day was difficult to pass without friends.

He glanced towards his pocket where his phone sat. Or maybe…

“Hm.” Makoto looked at the clock, then at her phone. “I suppose our day together has come to an end.”

“A-ah, alright,” Izuku said, trying not to sound disappointed. “Will… we meet again?”

“Of course, I’ll be in town for a while longer,” Makoto assured him. She nodded, a smile on her lips. “I’ll drag you to Ryuji’s gym then.”

“Thank you,” Izuku said, smiling back. “For everything.”

She went up in flames for a second, causing Izuku to jump backwards and look for a fire extinguisher. The smokeless flames gave way to her costume. She gave him one last thumbs up and a smile before leaving.

Izuku sighed, sinking onto the ground.

###

Izuku shifted in his bed. The TV was on but muted, the same old news about which hero captured which villain today kept repeating. The air felt heavy. He didn’t need to have the sound on to tell what they were talking about. The possible charges for the villains, the likelyhood of conviction, the latest polls on popularity and charts of resolved cases...

_**Were they right?** _

The voice in his head did not whisper. It shouted, not unlike a child in an echoing cave.

_They had to be right, right?_

That’s what the _law_ was, wasn’t it?

If they declared him guilty, then he had done something wrong. Bakugou’s voice kept playing on repeat, ringing in his ears.

“ _I didn’t need his fucking help, but that doesn’t mean he should be in jail for it!”_

Izuku’s hands were pressing down over his ears. The sun was still disgustingly bright, despite the blinds, and it made it difficult to relax. He was restless, frustrated, and alone.

Izuku _hated_ being alone with his thoughts. He kicked off the bed, all but running down the stairs after grabbing the only gym clothes he had: the U.A. uniform ones. He had to do _something_. He had to _move_. He put the clothes on, leaving clothes to change next to the bathroom before leaving and locking the door behind him.

The second he turned the corner from the café back into the alley proper, he found himself face to face with his new acquaintance, staring at him in approval and giving him a thumbs up.

“Are you going to the gym?” she asked.

“Not today,” he said. “I was going to take a run around the neighborhood and see everything.”

“I’ll join you,” she said. The bag on her side implied she was on her way to the gym instead.

“Y-you don’t need to do that,” he said, happy with the offer, but unwilling to interrupt her plans.

“I have to keep up with my classmates, they’re really amazing and I don’t want to fall back!”

So they took their jog around the neighborhood. But it became fast who was more fit between the two. While Ochako, who had been preparing for the heroics exam, had barely broken into sweat, Izuku had already begun to run out of breath. He couldn’t keep up, not after those months of unproductive wallowing. Ochako kept his pace, however, and while it felt childish, he did not want to appear that weak in front of her. Though he couldn’t do anything more than breathing once they had finished their round, he felt accomplished. Ochako, winded but not very much, gave him a pat on the back, accidentally sending him over with her quirk. The weightlessness was actually very welcome. His legs felt like lead.

“Ahahaha, good job,” she said, before noticing him spinning in place. “Oh, sorry, I… I really need to stop doing that don’t I.”

“I won’t report it,” Izuku said, gasping the words out. He swallowed, fumbling around the small bag on his back and finding a water bottle. He opened it, but forgot his position, ending with the gravity sending most of the water straight into his face. That was certainly a way to cool down.

She maneuvered him into an upright position, cancelling her quirk. She looked a bit more winded now, and slightly sick. He drank what was left of his water and kept breathing until he could finally speak again.

“Thank you,” Izuku said. Ochako looked confused for a moment before shrugging it off. He wasn’t sure what he was thanking her for.

“You’re welcome,” she said. “It’s good to have an exercise partner, we should jog to the train station every morning!”

Ochako was… incredibly hyper. If this is her mid-day slump, he didn’t want to see what she was like during periods of high activity.

“Y-yeah,” Izuku agreed before realizing what he was doing. All it took was _one_ pretty smile, apparently. “Thank you. Again, it’s good to have a frien-, I mean. I’m sorry-”

“It’s good to have a friend, yeah!” Ochako agreed immediately, raising a fist. “It’s too bad we can’t have classes together.”

Izuku coughed. “Yeah.”

It must’ve shown on his face. He wasn’t sure what she saw. The disappointment? The frustration? The anger? Sadness?

“Do you need a hug?” she asked, before realizing what she had just asked. The blush on her cheeks became a deeper shade of red. “ I would’ve just hugged you but, you don’t look like the touchy-feely kind of person-- It’s fine if you don’t want to, I know a lot of people don’t want to be touched, you just looked like you needed one-”

“I… yeah?”

He felt bad for agreeing considering how sticky he must be. It wasn’t a very _comfortable_ hug considering their states, but her arms had ended up wrapped around him faster than he could take his words back. She let go after a few seconds, and he felt himself heat up in embarrassment.

“I have something to do tomorrow,” he said quickly, fumbling around for his keys. “B-but if you want to go for another jog, I’ll be free around noon.”

“Sounds good,” she said, smiling widely. “See you tomorrow, Izuku!”

He waved goodbye, unlocking the door and all but slamming it behind him before locking again. He felt sick. He didn’t know why he felt sick, and he felt sick of feeling sick all the time.

A shower would help. At least he felt tired now. Maybe tired enough to sleep through the whole night. He had to visit his mother tomorrow, after all. It’d not do to worry her. He should look as healthy as possible, he should eat, he should sleep. Ignoring the empty feeling in his stomach, he went to bed.


	3. Rising Star

Izuku woke up early in the morning. Four AM on the dot. It was something they had drilled into him. He went through the motions, gathering his things for a quick shower and walking down the stairs. Though he’d call it early, Ren was already in the café, preparing breakfast.

“Good morning,” he greeted. Curry, again. Makoto wasn’t wrong, something wasn’t quite right with the man.

“Good morning,” Ren returned. “Sorry for leaving you alone with Makoto yesterday, there’s some stuff I couldn’t keep delaying. I hope she wasn’t too harsh on you.”

“No, she was- she was nice,” Izuku said, looking at the spot on the wall where the soup had seeped in. “I don’t know if you should let her cook here again, though.”

“She’s a bit volatile in the kitchen when she gets creative,” Ren said diplomatically. “But I think it’s more the broken oven here. It goes a bit hotter than it should when you put it on medium temperatures.”

“Shouldn’t you replace it, then?”

“Never.” Ren’s voice betrayed a smile. “It has sentimental value. I got it from my old boss, he was like a father to me.”

“Ah,” Izuku said, thinking to his own family. His father, there wasn’t really much to say. How’d you miss someone who was never there? His mother, in her kindness, lied often about him. She thought he didn’t know she was the one who packaged the gifts and put his father’s name on them, and he was more than happy to leave her in that belief. “I’m- I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be ready soon.”

Ren nodded, continuing to cook as his glasses fogged up from all the steam. Izuku entered the bathroom.

###

Ren didn’t speak a word, leaving Izuku to his thoughts as they drove further into the city, to the institution. Calling it that felt so dismissive. The hospital’s psych ward was its own building, and though it called itself an institution of mental healing, everyone knew it as an asylum.

Down the hall towards the reception, followed by stares of people who recognized him, he shrunk into himself. Ren’s hand on his shoulder got him out of the slump.

“We’re looking for Midoriya Inko,” Ren said. Before the nurse could say anything, and from the looks of her sneer it was something unkind and nasty, he continued. “This is her son, and if you won’t allow him to see her, I _will_ make sure you’re out of a job by tomorrow.”

“Room One-Five-Three,” she said after a moment of hesitation. Ren nodded, giving her the most unpleasant smile that Izuku had ever seen on him. When they moved towards the stairs, walking up to the first floor, he spoke up.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Izuku said, his voice low. “Won’t it get you in trouble?”

“Half this hospital is paid for by a friend of mine, and discrimination over things that they should _not know about_ is not why she’s keeping it running,” Ren said. “If you can’t keep your bigotry away from your job, you shouldn’t be doing that job.”

“Still,” Izuku said, ready to argue. Throwing power around because one had it, even for his benefit, it didn’t sit right by him. When they arrived on the first floor, Ren’s angry grin turned into a genuine smile.

“Shiho,” Ren greeted a woman. She turned around, revealing a woman with dark eyes and darker hair. Her smile was radiant, and they greeted each other with a hug. She was smaller than him, but that didn’t say much, considering Ren stood rather tall compared to the average non-mutated person.

“It has been too long, hasn’t it, Ren?” Shiho said. “You said you’d visit.”

“I’m visiting, aren’t I?” he said. “And we just met at Ann’s birthday!”

“In November,” Shiho said, shaking her head. “It’s April.”

“Alas, the life of the barista is a lonely and busy one, it is truly hard to work in the service industry,” Ren said with an exaggerated shrug. “I’m afraid a healthcare worker would never understand such a plight.”

Ren grunted and Izuku squeaked out in fright when Shiho slammed her elbow into the barista’s chest. He hunched over.

“What happened to the hippocratic oath?” he wheezed. Shiho shrugged, mirroring his earlier behavior with a smile of her own.

“I’m afraid a mere barista wouldn’t know what the difference between a nurse and a physician is,” she said. Turning to Izuku, who had not reacted fast enough to hide behind his guardian, she gave him a vibrant smile. “And who’s this? I didn’t know you had a kid.”

“I’m twenty nine, this kid’s fifteen.”

“And?” Shiho asked. “If he’s from around here and you went around like you did back in Tokyo, it’d surprise me if you _didn’t_ have a son.”

“I’m sorry but are you accusing me of being a… a gigolo?” Ren asked, balling a fist over his heart. “A scoundrel? A casanova? Who had a hundred conquests behind him?”  
  


It was weird. Ren looked happy joking around with his old friend, but comparing it to Makoto it was just so different. It was like he was an entirely different person.

“This is Midoriya Izuku,” Ren introduced eventually when Shiho didn’t rise to the occasion to mock him. “Izuku, this is Suzui Shiho. She’s a friend from my school days.”

“I-It’s nice to meet you,” Izuku said, bowing in greeting. Shiho blinked. Recognition dawned on her face.

“Ah, you’re-” Shiho began before stopping herself. Izuku’s gaze lowered. “Your mother, she’s down the hall, the third room to the right.”

Izuku nodded. “Thank you.”

He left them to talk, walking down the hall and passing various people. Nurses whom he barely registered for, a young woman with white hair who looked ready to cry. He could sympathize, the air here was not quite sterile like a hospital, but nonetheless it felt incredibly suffocating. The discomfort became stronger than he finally found the room he was looking for.

MIDORIYA INKO

ROOM 153

Opening the door slowly, he entered with small steps and closed the door behind him.

“Hey Mom,” Izuku said, approaching her. She had lost weight since the last time he saw her. She sat in her bed, her hands folded over one another, her gaze distant. “I’ve… I met my new guardian a few days ago. He’s very nice. His name’s Ren, and he’s letting me stay at his café during probation.”

She didn’t respond. She hasn’t since that verdict months ago. Since he had gone to jail for a few months until the details for his probation could be worked out. Since her face went pale and her hands went cold at the verdict.

A month after he went in, they let him out for a day. His mother had collapsed. Nobody told him _why_ , but he knew.

“I also met his friend, her name’s Makoto and- and she’s a pro-hero.” Izuku’s voice weakened. “She’s… really cool. She reminds me of you a lot. A bit harsh but she means well. She gets worried and tries not to show it but- but she’s too nice.” He laughed. “She blew up the kitchen trying to make us some soup.”

He reached out, holding her hands.

“I also made a friend, h-her name’s Ochako. She’s a bit loud and a bit hyperactive, but she’s really friendly and outgoing. We’re going to exercise together later today and- and we’re going to school together. She’s not in my class, she’s gonna be a hero.”

He squeezed her hands. The distant stare moved slightly, from one corner of the room to another.

“I also met my homeroom teacher and the principal, they’re not treating me like a villain. They’re expecting a lot from me, but I suppose that’s to be expected. I really like it there. Even if it’s not in the way I imagined it, it’s not been as bad as I thought.”

“I’m going to school on Monday. I’ll come by every Saturday. Ren-san is nice enough to drive me here, not that the train is hard to reach. You’re- you’re in good hands. Ren-san’s friend works here as a nurse. Maybe you’ve met her already, she’s called Suzui-san.”

He felt stupid calling everyone and everything nice. But that’s what they were. Compared to the neighbors who had spread rumors, and the malicious graffiti, and… and being chased out of their old neighborhood. Compared to the people who had grinded down his mother mentally while he wasn’t there to protect her.

“I… I miss you,” he finally said, unable to keep himself from crying. His shoulders shook. “Once all this is over, I’ll find a job, the principal promised to strike my record from the files when the probation is over. I’ll buy us a place away from here, we can live together again.”

Her hand twitched. He looked up. Though her mouth moved, no words came out. No sensible words could be read from her lips. Izuku stood, giving her a hug before hitting the button to call for the doctor.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” Izuku said before leaving the room. A million sorries would not be enough to atone for what he did to her. How could he be a hero if he couldn’t protect the one thing in his life that mattered? “I’m sorry.”

###

The rest of the day was kind of a haze. Izuku wasn’t quite sure how he arrived back at Leblanc, and only the promise to Ochako for their jog today was what kept him from shutting down completely. Ren hadn’t forced him to talk about his feelings or something that stupid, but…

Suddenly Makoto’s insistence to see his school’s counsellor made a lot more sense.

He changed into his gym clothes and sent Ochako a message. By the time he was out of the café, bidding goodbye to Ren who was tending to a few customers, she had already arrived, looking ready to take on the world.

She hadn’t asked whether he wanted a hug before she did.

Either she had no sense of personal space, or that’s just how girls greeted their friends.

He didn’t have a good measuring stick for it considering his pre-high-school days. He just accepted it and moved on, more than happy to find some distraction from his miserable day. For as long as it lasted.

They began their jog without much fanfare. But the quiet kept his thoughts running. Would she still hang out with him once school starts? Would she do it if she knew about his circumstances? She hadn’t asked about his parents yet but eventually she might, and if she won’t, maybe her parents would.

Maybe he should just rip the bandaid off and tell her.

Izuku was never able to be dishonest.

Not to… not to his friends.

It was obvious how distracted he was when Ochako had to grab him by the collar and stop him from running a light.

“Come,” Ochako said. “I know another way around, we don’t have to stop for any lights that way.”

Izuku nodded, feeling his breath run out already.

###

They arrived back at the café, it wasn’t any easier than yesterday, but certainly more satisfying. The burning in his lungs and the pain in his legs cleared his mind from the obnoxious fog. It let him focus.

“Ocha-,” he coughed. “Ochako, I- sorry.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she said, proving once more that there was _more_ to her than just a peppy persona. “You look like you’re in pain. You’re really bad at keeping your thoughts from your face.”

He laughed, accepting the blunt words at face value. Of course. Someone who refused to look at himself in the mirror would be an open book to everyone.

“I’m on probation,” Izuku said. Ochako blinked. “For- for obstruction of hero work, and the owner of the café is my probation officer.”

“Ohhh,” she said. He winced, waiting for her reaction. “I thought it was something more dangerous when I heard you just got out of jail-”

Izuku’s throat constricted. He choked on his own spit, coughing wildly for a few moments before gathering himself. “Y-you knew?”

“Kinda? It’s not a big neighborhood and Amamiya-san’s work isn’t a big secret,” Ochako admitted, sounding sorry for not telling him sooner. “We didn’t know _why_ but we assumed it wasn’t something violent, you don’t seem like a bad person.”

“I’m- I’m not!” Izuku said, hardly able to convince himself of it. “I just, I just made a dumb mistake, and, I’m sorry.”

“You really like apologizing, don’t you?” Ochako said, a bright smile playing on her lips. She put her hands on her hips. “People here are nice! Most of them, at least. It’s kind of a big family-”

Izuku teared up for the second time today. Nijima Sae was right. Though he doubted her at every turn and became more and more frustrated with the court, she had seen to him moving to the best possible place.

“I won’t say sorry again, then,” Izuku said, wiping his eyes, hoping it looked like he was wiping away sweat. “Thank you.”

She gave him a hug in goodbye. Tomorrow was Sunday. Two more days. Just two more days and school would start.

###

It was dark outside, and though he felt better about himself after his little heart to heart with Ochako, he was still restless. Ren had left before the night had broken in.

_Ochako: feeling excited yet?_

He looked at his phone, the too bright screen searing his eyes in the dark room. Taking a moment to think about it, he typed his answer.

_Izuku: More scared than anything else._

Being able to be honest with someone was good. It meant less stress. But just because someone here knew it didn’t mean he could just share it with everyone. Especially if U.A.’s rumor mill was as bad as that of his old school.

_Ochako: i understand that, rly anxious_

The trash was full. Ren must’ve forgotten to take it with him when he left for the night. Gathering up the bag and putting on his shoes, Izuku unlocked the door. He had to throw it out before it started to smell, after all, and the trash cans for pickup weren’t too far from the café. Further down into the alley and towards the right near the main road that led towards the train station.

Something felt wrong. The smell. The sound.

He shivered, his feet slowly bringing him further into the alley, past the trash and towards the sound of… fighting?

Izuku found himself on the main street, and under the flickering street lights saw horror. The hero he had just met yesterday, Ectoplasm, leaning against the wall. A glinting sword. A sick licking sound.

Ectoplasm fell like a marionette that lost its strings. Izuku felt

“All these fakes,” the man with the sword said. “All these _weaklings_ , all these-”

He swung his sword to the side, leaving drops of blood to splatter the ground. Ectoplasm, with what little power he had against the strange paralysis, turned his head, his eyes meeting Izuku’s.

“Midoriya,” a lipless mouth spoke through gritted teeth. “Run.”

“You should listen to him.”

It was easy to recognize the hunched over figure stained in blood and dirt. Hunched over, noseless and with an expression that would fit someone mourning in anger rather than a gleeful murderer. A red scarf and an equally long dirty white rag used as a mask flowing behind him, heavy steel boots that reminded him of Queen’s outfit, and bandages over his limbs.

Stain, the hero killer himself, ready to kill his homeroom teacher.

“This isn’t the night to play hero, kid,” Stain said.

“Run!” Ectoplasm shouted.

His ears were ringing. His fingers tensed, the muscles in his legs stiffened for a moment. The echoing voice of Ectoplasm was drowned out by the noise of rushing blood. Stain’s blade, wet with blood, reflected the dim street lights back into Izuku’s eyes.

_**Again, a crossroad, but do you know which path to choose?** _

Of course he did. The one that he promised Ren to pick. The one that Nezu made a bet over. The one where he kept his head down. The one where he turned around and called the police, knowing well that they would arrive too late and find a corpse.

_**Is this your answer?** _

It _has_ to be. He didn’t have a _choice_. He would go to jail if he chose differently!

_**Then flee, coward. Flee, traitor to your ideals. Flee!** _

Izuku found his legs moving. Unfortunately, his brain had already given up on rationalizing that leaving the pro hero to die would be the most sensible choice in his circumstances. So he ran towards the fight, throwing the trash bag that he was still holding at the man in black and red.

The hero killer’s stained sword cut into the bag, unleashing its contents haphazardly onto him. While most of the cut vegetables just dropped to the floor, the momentum of the bag left some of the juices that had gathered at the bottom of it to splatter onto the hero killer. The most certainly rancid liquid hit his eyes, causing him to hiss out in pain.

Izuku kept running. He had to get Ectoplasm out. The fact that there was no way he could carry the man didn’t even register until his fingers were around the injured hero’s mantle. Stain’s sword stabbed into his arm, pinning him against the wall of the building that Ectoplasm had been lying against.

Izuku screamed. The shrill, painful echo saw not one light turn on in the dead of night. This was not the kind of neighborhood where people would investigate it. Another scream as the sword left his arm, and a grunt as Stain kicked him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. He rolled down the street, cradling in his stomach with his functional arm, tears in his eyes.

When Stain raised his sword to his lips, that was when Izuku realized he had lost.

“You’re a good kid,” Stain said, watching as Izuku struggled against his quirk. “Unlike this poser, you’d make a great hero. But you’re a hundred years too early to face me.”

_**You didn’t flee. Facing death or incarceration, you faced an adversary you could not defeat.** _

Izuku’s body lurched forward, his spine exploding into pain. He screamed in frustration. Why was he so weak? Why could he do nothing to help those in need? Why did he have to be born quirkless? Why did _nothing_ ever go his way?

_**If you had that power, would you fight? Knowing that you will be locked up, your chances of being a hero tainted forever?** _

His hand found his head. Stain, seeing the movement, hesitated for just a moment. Izuku could see it through his blurred vision, the blood that started to form a small puddle under him. Stain must’ve hit an artery-

Izuku heaved, bile and blood mixing on the barely lit pavement. His body twitched once more. “I don’t care if I go to jail!”

“Run, Midoriya!” Ectoplasm shouted when the boy’s body moved in spite of the quirk. “I told you to _run_ , that’s an _order_!”

“I will _not_ ,” Izuku said, his voice distant yet resolute, as if he spoke with two lips. As if his frustration came from him with two sets of lungs. His body lurched once more, forcing him onto his feet, stumbling and cradling his limp, wounded arm.

A mask sat over his eyes, reflecting the starlit night. “I don’t care if I’ll never be anyone else’s hero after this. I’ll be _my_ hero! If you tell me I’m wrong, I don’t _want_ to be right!”

Raising his functional arm to his face, he began to pull. Skin snapped off with strange squelching sounds. Fire gathered at his fingertips.

_**AH! What vigor, what a beautiful rebellion! What a wonderful feeling, O Hero mine! Come! Call on me, make this our contract!** _

The mask was ripped off in a shower of blood. He knew the name, he knew the contract. He could call him.

“Come! _ASTRAEUS._ **”**

His body exploded into flames, and Stain dodged a spear of light. A gust of wind sent Izuku into the air, and the figure behind him became visible to the naked eye. Proud, winged, starry.

In a way, the red wings that reflected the setting sun reminded him of Hawks. The burning fury in the towering summon’s eyes was that of Endeavor.

The smile on its non-existent lips spoke of All Might.

Astraeus, God of Dusk, Father of Justice.

With a snap of Izuku’s fingers, a golden light gathered around Ectoplasm. Before Stain could react, the man had used his quirk, able to move without problems. Copies of him appeared all over the street. For the first time this night, Stain was the one on the backfoot.

Izuku stood in a fine white suit, like a mix of formal wear and a toga. Loose pieces hung off his arm when he raised it, his fingers slowly reaching towards his face. The mask vanished slowly, the summon turning more solid.

Stain gauged the situation. There was a good possibility he would still be able to take them both, but not without injury, and certainly not before backup arrived. Unknown quirks, Izuku knew, were not something that people liked dealing with. With two good jumps, he was on a roof. With quick steps, he vanished.

Izuku sighed a breath of relief as Ectoplasm stood, walking towards him. The older hero laughed softly.

“Two days, huh?” Ectoplasm asked. Izuku smiled widely, tearing up. Seconds later, the boy’s strange costume and quirk disappeared, leaving him on the ground, still bleeding out. “Shit.”

###

Ren’s eye burned as he looked out of his window. He was right. He didn’t _want_ to be right, and yet, as was usually the case, he found himself validated because his gut feeling didn’t lie. Whether it be a quirk or some sort of otherworldly power, Izuku gave off a resolute aura.

A small snap from the tool in his hands. A loud whirr. The strength was good enough, but perhaps a bit too fast for Izuku. He loosened one of the screws. A small snap, a less loud whirr.

“Morgana,” he whispered. The black cat with white snout and paws in the corner of his room opened his eyes, staring back at him in a bright blue. “Can you keep an eye on him?”

“Instead of sitting around and waiting for Haru to come back from her business trip?” Morgana asked. “Of course I can do that. But isn’t it late already? Shouldn’t you go to bed?”

“I will, in a minute. I have another favor to ask.” He held up the device that Morgana had made for him so many years ago, repaired and adjusted for use by someone smaller and weaker than him. “Can you get that to him and get him to try it out?”

“Why not just tell him about it.”

“Because it would be _way_ funnier if he figures it out himself,” Ren said. Morgana, though currently looking like a cat, managed to raise an eyebrow at the stupidity. “Everyone has to learn.”

“You’re an idiot savant with middle school syndrome, I don’t think you can make generalizing statements.”

Ren gave a thumbs up. His phone rang. It was the principal.

“Hello?” he tried. It was obviously about the awakening that just took place- “I’m sorry what? _Which hospital?_ ”

He _hated_ being right.

###


	4. Heaven and Hell

**AN: In case you haven’t seen, I have updated chapters 1 to 3 with a lot of description and the like after feedback, as well as tightened up some dialogue and feelings in character interaction. That’s 2k new words!**

**###**

Izuku woke up to yet another unfamiliar ceiling. His ears were… not quite ringing anymore, but something felt wrong. Like his head was stuck under water. Through the haze of tiredness, he noticed the pain in his arm was gone. He flexed his fingers, idly testing his grip on the sheet and failing to keep the linen cloth from slipping through.

In the distance, people were arguing.

Or perhaps it wasn’t distant at all. The voices became clearer as he concentrated and the strange echo subsided. Familiar voices.

“He’ll be tired for a bit, it’s fine if he skips the first day if he doesn’t feel better,” Nezu said. Izuku could, through a half-lidded eye, see the principal’s hand or paw wave something off in emphasis of his words. Still, though his voice hadn’t changed in inflection, it felt more malicious as he continued. “It’s a wonder he doesn’t have worse injuries.”

“Stain is a mass murderer with a code,” Ectoplasm wasn’t too far either. To his left. His head turned. He could see the pro hero on a bed, hooked up to some machines. The feeling on his right arm… needles. Tubes. Izuku shuddered. “Midoriya didn’t register as a hero and Stain wouldn’t kill him.”

“He _could_ have,” Nezu insisted. Izuku shifted once more. The sound of his sheets caused them to turn towards him. He tried speaking, but the words wouldn’t leave his throat. Someone to his right raised something to his lips. A straw. A few seconds and a few healthy glugs of water later, he felt much better.

“I’m sorry.”

It was the first thing that came to mind. Apologizing. But this time, it didn’t feel weird to apologize, he didn’t feel _forced_ to. The rumbling in his chest and the sickness in his stomach subsided, leaving him with nothing but the memory of breaking the one thing he promised them.

Ectoplasm stood, the machines behind his bed beeping as half of them were ripped off his arms with the quick motion. He stumbled for a moment, forcing Ren to help him keep his balance. Izuku sat slowly, watching as his homeroom teacher’s face morphed between various snarls. It was hard to really _tell_ what his teacher’s face was saying, as half of it was lipless fangs-

“You’re _reckless_ ,” Ectoplasm hissed from the bedside. Ren opened his mouth to speak, but Principal Nezu put a hand up, stopping him. Izuku flinched back, his arms seeking to hide his face as he cupped his head with his hands. “You’re insubordinate, and you’re _reckless_. If I didn’t have a better word for this I would call it suicidal, but no, it’s just stupidity with you.”

“I’m sorry,” Izuku said. His voice cracked. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorr-”

Ectoplasm’s hand reached out, and Izuku’s body shuddered in fright before the arm wrapped around him. It was not warm, Ectoplasm’s body was strangely cold, and his costume was not comfortable, but-

“You saved my life, Midoriya,” Ectoplasm said, his voice low. The hug was awkward but comforting. “This isn’t a debt I can repay easily. You went far above and beyond the call of duty. You risked everything, and I’m thankful.”

“I broke my promise,” Izuku insisted. His voice was fading. He could see nothing but black at the edges of his vision. “I- I’m going back to jail.”

“You’re not,” Nezu said. It _sounded_ cheerful, but something in his mind told him that Nezu was not feeling cheerful at all. “Because _nothing happened today_.”

“But-”

“Midoriya Izuku,” Nezu interrupted him with the voice of a parent chiding a child. The tone that was just high pitched enough to register as an alarm to back off and accept it. Ectoplasm let go of him, taking a step away from the bed. “Would you like to tell me what happened today?”

“N-nothing, sir,” Izuku said, almost biting his tongue. Why would they cover for him? Weren’t they the ones who told him to keep his head down? “So that means… I can still come to school?”

“There’s a few things that will have to be cleared first, but I believe we can help out with that,” Nezu said. “The first would be the matter about your quirk.”

Izuku’s eyes widened. He checked all over his body, the sudden movement causing nothing but pain in his tired limbs. “I don’t have a quirk! Do I?”

“You do have one,” Ren said, pursing his lips. “Quite a late bloomer, fifteen years old? You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Izuku wasn’t sure what kind of practical joke they were playing on him. But something _did_ feel different. His face was wrong. He lifted his hand to it, watching as fire danced on his fingertips. For a second, he could see something in the distant haze. A face in the darkness, a starry sky. It left him drained of all the strength of his body.

“It seems to drain your endurance, as does our resident nurse’s quirk,” Nezu said, a smile playing on his lips. The twinkle in his eyes made Izuku swallow. “I would avoid activating it until she gives you permission. She is not someone you want to cross.”

The delivery of the line came with a shudder from Ectoplasm. Izuku nodded, his head hitting the pillow with a thud. He felt himself overflowing with conflicting emotion. His ears beet red and hot, his eyes stinging and wet.

And that stupid, shit-eating grin on his face that he couldn’t get rid off.

He had a quirk!

He- he finally had a quirk.

And he would still never be a hero with it.

“We’ll leave you to rest and, if Recovery Girl gives the okay, Ren will pick you up tomorrow morning.” Nezu smiled at the man.

“The show must go on, huh, _Principal_?” Ren asked, the corners of his lips twitching upwards, though the smile never reached his eyes. Nezu’s smile widened. “Get some rest, Izuku. We’ll talk tomorrow, alright?”

“Yes.” Izuku felt himself drifting off already. Next week he could go visit his mom. He could show her his quirk. He yawned, watching as Ren put the sheet over his shoulders and helped Ectoplasm back into his own bed. “Good night, Ren-san.”

###

When Izuku woke up once more, he did so with a smile on his face and a cat on his chest. It was black, with white paws and a white snout, and it was snoring rather loudly.

He wasn’t sure where it came from, but considering it was comfortably snoring on him and looked rather adorable doing it, he didn’t want to wake it up. The weight was almost comfortable, not unlike the weighted blanket that his mother had bought.

A look to his left saw Ectoplasm’s bed empty. He wasn’t sure what time it was, considering the lack of a clock in the room, and he couldn’t reach his phone that was conveniently placed on his bedside table without waking the cat.

So he lay there, unable to sleep and unable to fully wake up.

At least until a rather small woman walked in, shooing the cat away so suddenly that its claws ended up scratching him slightly as it fell off the bed.

“You’ve broken a new record, young Midoriya,” she said, smiling at him. “I never had to heal someone before the school year started.”

“You’re,” Izuku thought for a moment, mentally filing through all the U.A. staff he memorized. “Recovery Girl? I remember reading an article about you, m-ma’am, sorry, I’m uhhh.”

He felt fine, if hungry. His stomach announced as much when it growled with an intensity audible to people around him. Recovery Girl laughed.

“If you’re hungry, you’ll be fine. Stain’s quirk doesn’t seem to leave lingering effects, so after you’ve had breakfast, we’ll call your guardian to pick you up.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Izuku said. Usually he would politely decline, as he wouldn’t want to be a bother, but he was too hungry to decline, and any chance to avoid breakfast curry was to be taken.

She gave him a once over before patting his cheek and rustling his hair. A few minutes later all the machines attached to his arm were turned off and he could stand. Though a bit shaky, he found himself ready to take on the world.

 _A quirk_.

He had a _quirk_.

He had a hunger beyond belief. He hunched over when his stomach rumbled once more. The door opened, revealing Lunch Rush, a pro hero and cooking show star whose shows were popular with many cooking enthusiasts.

And a palate of food that made his mouth water. He ended up taking a seat on the bed, the cat from earlier appearing once more at the smell.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d eat so I prepared something of everything,” Lunch Rush said. Izuku bowed his head slightly.

“Thank you very much,” Izuku said. “I-I don’t have any preferences, really. Thank you for the food.”

Lunch Rush perked up in what Izuku decided could only be satisfaction. Giving him one last thumb up, the pro hero left him to his own devices as Recovery Girl worked through a few files on her desk.

The cat stole a few pieces of chicken.

“That’s not nice,” Izuku muttered, hoping it didn’t leave any hairs on the plates.

“It’s too much for you, I’m just helping you clean the plate up.”

“You’re just- I mean,” Izuku blinked. What? He choked on what little food he had stuck in his mouth, coughing a few times and raising his hands towards Recovery Girl to tell her it’s fine. She waited for a moment before shaking her head.

“Eat slower,” she ordered. He nodded at her, looking between the cat and the older woman.

“Did you just talk?”

“Are you asking me that?” It asked in return. Its expression didn’t shift, and its mouth barely moved, but Izuku had the feeling it was mocking him just from the tone of its voice. “Your principal is a talking rat.”

“That’s, er, fair?” Izuku said. He still wasn’t sure if that made sense. His principal at least looked like he had a quirk, as there was a humanoid form to him. The cat was… a cat. Recovery Girl for her part didn’t really react to the conversation, so maybe she was used to it? He hadn’t heard about a talking cat on the school grounds but it’s U.A. “Do you have a name?”

“Ohoho, of course,” the cat said. If it could, Izuku was sure, it would thump itself on the chest in pride. “I am the great and powerful _Morgana_. My name strikes fear into the hearts of villains and deviants alike!”

Izuku shook his head, turning back to the food. He was too hungry to argue with a cat, and Lunch Rush’s cooking was just too good. It didn’t have a homely feel to it like Ren’s cooking, but it tasted of passion and high-quality ingredients.

Certainly better than the bland rice in juvie.

When Morgana tried to swipe more food, he blocked him off with an arm. Rather than fight fair, the thieving cat ended up rushing up to the bed and jumping off his shoulder onto a piece of pie.

Izuku pulled the plate away, but Morgana’s grip was strangely strong.

He felt so stupid fighting with a talking cat over food.

But he’d feel _more_ stupid if he lost a fight with a talking cat over food.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Morgana said, his voice reflecting their struggle. “You give me that pie and I’ll do you a massive favor.”

“Yeah?” Izuku said, narrowing his eyes. Talking to someone who wasn’t another human felt way easier, even if he was certain that he was just making a fool of himself in front of Recovery Girl. “What kind of favor?”

“Persona.”

His ears began to ring. Letting go of the plate saw Morgana stumble off the food cart and onto the ground, the piece of pie following and splattering on the cat’s head. Izuku’s hands moved to his ears, and the discomfort was visible enough for Recovery Girl to interrupt whatever she was doing and rush towards him.

A bright light to check his eyes. A large ‘aaaaah’ to check his throat.

“Auditory hallucinations?” she asked. Izuku shook his head. The voices from the past few nights had all but vanished today. “So talking to a cat is just your thing, son?”

“Is it a hallucination if the cat talks back?” Izuku asked. Morgana jumped onto the bed and shook himself off the pie, intentionally splattering some over Izuku. Recovery Girl hummed.

“I suppose part of your quirk could be understanding animals, it seems multifaceted from Ectoplasm’s description, but these things don’t seem to be related. Please keep me up to date if you feel weird, will you?”

“Besides a slight headache, I’m-I’m fine,” Izuku said, standing up and wiping his dirty sleeve on Morgana’s fur. “The food was tasty.”

“Alright, then, as a licensed professional, I am allowed to record quirks for the registry. If you feel up to it, I’d like you to find out what you can about it before your guardian arrives. Is that fine with you?”

“Yes,” Izuku couldn’t have answered faster if he wanted. The words had been sitting on his lips since last night. “B-but hmm.”

He looked at his fingers and raised them to his eyes. Nothing happened. His eyes moved to Morgana, whose mouth moved in unspoken words, lips that didn’t exist speaking into his mind.

“Persona,” Izuku said in a low voice. His fingers burned in white fire. His clothes started to change, the hospital gown that they had put on him turned into a white suit with cloth hanging off his arms and shoulders. The mask on his face was weightless.

“Activation phrase, that’s not too unusual,” she said, humming as she took notes. “How do you feel?”

“Strong?” Izuku tried. He looked at the palate of food and wrapped a hand around it. It lifted off the ground without much resistance. “But there’s something missing.”

“Ectoplasm mentioned you snapping your fingers last night,” Recovery Girl supplied. “As well as ripping off your face, though that was probably exaggerated. You were rather bloodied, but your face was fine.”

His fingers raised to his face. The mask burned off, revealing streaks of red underneath it. Recovery Girl’s face twisted into an ugly expression, though it softened after a moment. Wings exploded out of his back.

“Red wings, but incomplete,” she murmured. Izuku nodded. He snapped his fingers, but nothing happened. He raised his hands to his face again, ready to rip the mask off, but it vanished without much fanfare.

“Ah,” Izuku said, recognition dawning in his voice. “Astraeus.”

The wings left him, taking shape behind him in a figure dressed in white flames. It wore a mirror of his own loose cloths, revealing more than it should of a strangely muscular humanoid body that shone in a silver light. Its face was… non-existent, but the fire over its head had black features that carved something akin to a face into it, smiling widely.

“If I had to take a gander, I would say that the clothes seem to be your main quirk, some sort of armor? No, perhaps a projection of your quirk factor, and the rest is an extension of it.”

Astraeus vanished back into him. With a deep breath, the clothes returned to normal.

“It’s a peculiar quirk, do you wish to name it?”

“Errr, I’m not sure how I’d name it, maybe after the activation?” Izuku tried. Recovery Girl hummed.

“Persona,” she said. Hearing someone else say it caused the ringing to return. She typed something into her computer. “An aspect of your personality as perceived by others? It might work, usually quirk names should be descriptive, but with difficult-to-quantify quirks… I suppose no one has any right to complain.”

It-it sounded right. It certainly explained why he felt so at _ease_ when Astraeus was wrapped around him. Even when the costume was gone, that spark of his quirk, that warm hand on his back pushing him forward-

“Good show,” someone spoke from the doorway. They turned to find Ren, who had presumably been watching the scene before making himself known. “How are you feeling?”

He must’ve arrived while they were distracted with the testing.

“Better than ever,” Izuku admitted freely. He wasn’t sure if he deserved to hold his head up, but the emotions running high inside of him made it hard to feel bad about it. It was _great_ having a quirk. It was great not being useless. It was… amazing, being thanked for saving someone, to feel their gratitude. “That’s not your cat back there, is it?”

“You have made an enemy for life,” Morgana said, hissing at him from the bed. Izuku resisted the urge to make a fool out of himself by meowing at the cat.

Ren’s shoulders shook on the way to the car.

###

As was demanded of the service industry, Ren didn’t hesitate to open the shop and start working the second they were at Leblanc. While he ended up taking a shower to freshen up a little, Morgana had ended up making his own fiefdom on Izuku’s bed. Rather than rise to the occasion of kicking the cat out, as he would have all the time in the world to do so, Izuku found himself at his desk with a notebook in hand.

_Hero Analysis for the Future #14._

He could _feel_ it. Astraeus could do so much more than just appear and fly around. He could remember the flashes of light. The strange confidence. The glint-

In the corner of his vision sat something, glinting in the shadow of a small cupboard under his desk. Opening it had him find a wristwatch? No, it was much more bulky than that. An armband of sorts. It had gears inside and it lay rather heavy in the hand.

“Put it on,” Morgana said, lazing about on the bed.

“Did you bring this here?”

“No. Still, put it on.”

It was probably Ren now that he thought about it. Against his better judgement, and after checking for any strange smells (who knows if Morgana hadn’t done something to it to prank him), he put it on. It felt right, somehow, but tapping on it didn’t do much. Maybe looking at it like a watch?

That did it.

‘It’ being a weird hook suddenly releasing itself from the front, grabbing onto the wall and suddenly forcing his body off the chair and against the wall. He hit it with a thud, and only the quick activation of his quirk with a frightened shout of ‘Persona!’ stopped him from another trip to Recovery Girl. It wasn’t just plain strength, it seemed. The clothes that appeared had turned what would be a painful crash into a not quite cushioned but certainly less uncomfortable dull pain.

Whether the clothes acted as armor that dispelled the damage or his body itself had grown more durable, he didn’t know.

Morgana was laughing.

“I could’ve been hurt!” Izuku said, more exasperated than truly angry. Astraeus’ presence helped calm his nerves. “You could’ve warned me.”

“I have no idea what that is,” Morgana lied. “But it seems to be some sort of grappling hook.”

Izuku blinked. His annoyance was already gone by the time he lifted his chair up from the ground and sat down again, hoping that Ren hadn’t heard the commotion. Maybe it was left behind by the previous resident whom Ren had taken care of? He might ask later, after… checking thoroughly, if he could make his own. He began to write.

His Persona quirk. Astraeus. The wings. Could he fly with them as well? It wasn’t unlikely considering the strong connection between his weird outfit change and the Persona. The grappling hook opened more possibilities. If he wasn’t capable of flying, or perhaps needed to sneak rather than reveal his position with the summoning, wouldn’t it be better to use something like that?

Was it alright to dream of being a hero?

His pen stopped halfway through a note on the theoretical application of a grappling hook in villain combat, his thoughts wandering.

If he could continue the probation and had his record stricken would he need to go to work immediately?

Maybe if he made money as a pro hero he could offer his mother a more comfortable home, maybe seeing him change from that stupid juvenile criminal to a hero would…

Morgana jumped onto his shoulder, distracting him with sharp claws that pierced his clothes. “What are you writing?”

“Notes,” Izuku hissed in pain. It wasn’t _that_ bad, but the suddenness made it uncomfortable and hard to think about anything but the holes in his new shirt. “On how to be a hero, with a quirk like mine.”  
  


“That’s not a bad idea at all,” Morgana turned his head as he stepped onto the desk, lifting the cover of the notebook to read it. “Fourteen? What’s with the others?”

“Burned,” Izuku admitted. Buried with his adoration for All Might, revived in this notebook. “But that’s fine, I had them memorized anyway. I can just write them again if I need to.”

“Bragging won’t make you popular with girls, you know?” Morgana teased, and if a cat could, he would certainly be wiggling his eyebrows right about now. “If you have any questions, you can ask your new pal Morgana here and I will have all the answers.”

“Okay,” Izuku said, nodding and crossing his arms. He eyed the cat with suspicion, raising an eyebrow. “You know a lot, don’t you?”

“Don’t be silly,” Morgana said. “I just know what I know.”

“I mean about my, my quirk.” Izuku still felt strange saying it out loud. He tested the word a few times. It left a strange feeling on his lips. “You have to admit it’s suspicious.”

“Hmmm,” Morgana hummed. Izuku wasn’t sure how trustworthy the cat was, and Ren made no indication that he belonged to him or could even hear him speak, which meant it _might_ be related to his quirk as well.

“You’re not some sort of projection from my quirk to teach me, are you?” Izuku asked. Morgana blinked rapidly.

“That’s… actually a pretty good excuse for me to stick by you, just tell that to your teacher,” Morgana said. “But no, have you ever heard about _quirk mutations_?”

“I watched a documentary about them, rare genetic defects that cause quirks to mutate into something entirely different and often dangerous, as they lack the ‘refinement’ of normal quirks that have stabilized over generations, they’re-”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Morgana said, lying down on the notebook. “Imagine the opposite, the same quirk, not an _incredibly similar_ quirk, but the _same_ , appearing in various people, generations apart.”

“A latent common gene?” Izuku tried. Morgana shrugged, as if it wasn’t his duty to explain himself. “Like people with a common ancestor receiving their quirk despite the family tree being way apart now?”

“Something like that,” Morgana said.

  
“You think I have one of those? I don’t think those are _documented_. It’s too easy to just say it’s a very similar quirk.”  
  


“Would I lie to you?” Morgana said. Izuku resisted the urge to answer ‘yes’ and just digested the information. “Let me rephrase that: do you have any better theory?”

“I’m thinking you don’t want to tell me the truth because of some reason that won’t make me happy,” Izuku admitted. Morgana hummed again. “And… I’m honestly not willing to push right now, because I’m in too good of a mood to let you ruin that for me?”  
  


“I was sent here to help you hone your power.”

“Like some sort of superhero mentor?”

“Ohoho,” Morgana did that strange laugh again, his back arching inwards in pride and relaxation. “I have trained _generations_ of Persona users! My track record is _amazing_.”

“So there _are_ more,” Izuku said, taking the arrogance at face-value.

“Oh? And here I thought you were just some shy kid that couldn’t stop saying sorry, but you’re pretty sharp, aren’t you?” Morgana replied, idly licking a paw. Izuku frowned, unable to truly disagree with the words.

“I-I’m that, I think,” Izuku admitted freely, and despite himself he found a small smile dancing on his lips. “But somehow, I don’t feel like that with you.”

Morgana, like Ren and Makoto, felt _different_. Like he was at peace. Like he could be himself, or what was left of himself after the misery that was detention and his mother’s shutdown.

It was weird, the difference between the adults (and cat) in his life and his friend, whom he liked, but still couldn’t feel as close to.

He could just chalk it up to the age, and his bad experiences with kids in middle school.

‘ _Or’_ , he thought, grabbing the pen and making a quick note to contact Makoto, _‘I could just do my own investigation.’_

After all, Makoto’s costume appeared in blue fire, did it not?


	5. Carving Mountains

Monday morning. He had been awake most of the night, dismantling and putting the grappling hook back together again until he understood all the parts correctly. He could make himself a replica—he had the parts and the notes—all he really needed were funds. Morgana, like a devil on his shoulder, insisted that he should just keep it, but if it belonged to Ren, or the person who lived here before him, he wanted to return it to them.

A shower later, he checked his phone and found a message from Ochako saying she’ll pick him up in front of Leblanc. He sent a thumbs up back, getting ready.

The uniform, Izuku had noticed, did not feel as heavy as it did before. Its soft threads did not burn his skin like acid, and moving in it did not scrape on him like sandpaper. Due to orientation today their plans for jogging to the train station had changed to an early morning workout. It wouldn’t do well to get into the train all sweaty and unable to take a shower until they hit the school.

At least U.A. _had_ showers to use for students. His old school wasn’t exactly well equipped.

He walked down the stairs with his head held high. Even the third plate of breakfast curry in four days could not deter him.

“Good morning,” Ren said, a small smile on his lips. “Excited yet?”

“Yeah,” Izuku said, clenching a fist to his side. He meant it. Sitting down on one of the stools, he grabbed the spoon and dug in. It… tasted better than ever. A touch of honey today, the sweetness overwhelming and lowering the spiciness that he had been getting used to. He might have rushed through the plate, excited for the day at hand. “Thank you for the meal.”

“Have fun,” Ren said, waving him off. Izuku stood when Ren took the plate, taking one last glance to see if his uniform sat right. He was halfway through the door before Ren called out to him again. “Izuku!”

“Yeah?” Izuku asked from the doorway. Ochako stood in front of the store, greeting him loudly before noticing his distraction. Ren gave him a thumbs up and a proud smile.

“Good job,” he said. Izuku blinked, raising an eyebrow. Looking towards Ochako, and then back at Ren, his face went red before he closed the door quickly. He could still hear the man’s laugh through the closed door.

“Good morning, sorry,” Izuku said, finally greeting his friend. He sighed, his bag weighing heavier than he remembered. “How are you?”

“Ready to take on the _world_ ,” she said, almost squealing the last word out. Ochako shadowboxed in emphasis, making Izuku laugh softly. “How about you?”

“Maybe not the world, but I think I’d take on the old lady from the second-hand store.”

“Probably shouldn’t,” Ochako said, looking around the corner from Leblanc towards said shop. “I heard she used to be _Yakuza_.”

Izuku laughed again, slightly louder this time. Ochako didn’t. His laughter subsided, and he was left furrowing his brows. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“My mom told me, and she doesn’t lie,” Ochako said. Izuku swallowed. Shaking his head, he walked out of the alley with her, making their way to the train station. The way wasn’t too complicated, and chatting along made the trip a fast one.

It had taken a few minutes for the train to arrive, ending with them squeezed into the tight train car with the rest of the commuters. No seats were free, leaving them standing with their bags grasped tightly.

“Izuku.” The boy in question looked up. “I’ve been meaning to ask but, is your bag meowing?”

His mouth opened, then closed again. Narrowing his eyes at his bag, he opened it slowly to find a blue eye looking back at him. The claws shot out faster than he could react, scratching his cheek. He hissed in pain, and Morgana hissed back as his head squeezed out of the bag.

“I thought I was going to choke to death!” Morgana said. The meowing caused people to look into his direction, but Izuku failed to force the cat’s head back into the bag.

“Oh my god how adorable,” Ochako said, her hand reaching out.

“Careful,” Izuku warned. “He likes to scratch people.”

Ochako, keeping her thumb away from the fur, pet Morgana with four fingers. The cat was looking smug, purring in response. “He’s so cute, what’s his name?”

“Morgana,” Izuku said, glaring at the black and white pest. “I think he’s Ren-san’s cat, but he decided to move into my room and sleep on me.”

“He must like you.”

“I don’t think so, all he does is scratch me and sit on my books.”

“That’s how cats show love, I’ve heard~” Ochako assured him. Morgana, somehow looking more smug than ever, glared back at Izuku.

“Yes,” he meowed. “I really wuv you, Izuku.”

“I hope he can find his way home alone,” Izuku said, ignoring the cat’s taunts. “I don’t think I’m allowed to keep a cat on school grounds.”

“Aw, but he’s so cute, I’m sure they can make an exception.”

“Yes,” Izuku said through gritted teeth, doing his best to smile. “I’m sure it will be fine. I certainly won’t throw him out of my bag once we arrive at our stop.”

If Ochako noticed his sarcasm, she didn’t mention it. It didn’t take long for them to arrive at their stop.

###

They arrived with more than enough time to spare. They weren’t the first ones, but from the sheer amount of people pouring into the gates, many of them older students who were greeting each other after the holidays, they would certainly not be the last. They stopped halfway to the front door of the main building, where Morgana had decided to stop using Izuku as a ride and jump out of the bag, vanishing to god knows where.

U.A. didn’t feel as insurmountable as it did before. Now that he knew the principal and the school looked very much alive, Izuku felt almost comfortable.

“Do you know where your classroom is, yet?” Ochako asked, taking his attention away from the cat. He nodded, pulling out the student’s handbook and unfolding a small map that sat on the last page.

“It’s in the back of the main building,” he said, pointing at the classroom. She leaned a bit too close, nodding along as his finger moved to the front of the building on the map. “Yours is… right here. You can take the front entrance, I’ll go around.”

“We’ll see each other at orientation, right?”

“Yeah, and if we don’t we can still meet up after,” he said, nodding. “See you later, Ochako.”

“See you,” she said, giving him a quick hug and moving on. He took one last look at the map, turning right and taking the long way around the building, enjoying the sight of the campus. He could see a cafeteria through the windows, and Lunch Rush, who was working hard in the kitchen already.

An entire class of students was outside, standing in a row in front of a teacher. Their equipment looked like they belonged to the support department.

A few minutes of walking later, he was at the back entrance, taking the stairs up to the first floor and looking around for the classroom. Fortunately there were signs, with a bold 1-C sitting right next to the stairs to his left.

It was a different feeling, standing here as the school was on, and people were walking around the halls. It made it feel much more alive, much more real. His hands shook as he opened the door to the classroom, finding himself the subject of attention for a short moment.

“Good morning?” he said, giving them a shaky smile. A few mumbled good mornings and some nods into his direction were enough interaction for them, and they went back to doing whatever they were doing. It was a simple classroom, overall. Six rows of four seats, for a total of twenty-four students.

Walking into the room, he picked a free chair near the window, right behind a purple haired boy who looked more like a zombie than a person.

It took a few more minutes for the room to fill up, and Ectoplasm arrived last, a minute before the intended time. The room went quiet, and everyone was sitting in their chairs without making much of a noise.

He looked over them, measuring them all up for a moment before opening his lipless mouth widely. “This isn’t a funeral, look alive! Welcome to U.A!”

The class exploded into chatter, and Ectoplasm nodded in approval. The only people who remained silent were Izuku and the boy in front of him.

“The principal is going to hold a speech in a bit, but before that, I want you all to introduce yourselves! Your goals! Your favorite foods, whatever you can think of.”

So they did.

One by one, names were being said, foods were named, a few people joked about wanting to get into the heroics course, some people admitted more seriously that they wanted to get into the management department, and hoped to improve their grades through general education before they could.

When the row in front of him was called, the zombie stood up, frowning. “I’m Shinso Hitoshi. I’ll be a hero.”

And he sat down.

The class sat in silence for a moment, and after digesting the rather abrupt end to his introduction, some faces twisted ugly expressions, already judging him and his behavior.

Izuku did too, but he had the feeling his interpretation was different. Between all of them, the one with the strongest conviction to become a hero was him. Shaking his head, Izuku stood.

“My name is Midoriya Izuku,” he began. The eyes on him made him hesitant, slightly slouching in an effort to make himself smaller and get away from the gazes. “I’m... “

He what?

Now that he had a quirk, what did he want to do? His initial plan was still to earn enough money to buy a place for his mother so they could heal together, but he wasn’t going to tell a bunch of strangers about his family situation, lest they ask more questions than he wanted to answer. Ectoplasm didn’t move on from him, waiting for his answer, and the people around him seemed to already tune him out as he did with most of them.

“I want to be the best person I can be,” he eventually settled. Ectoplasm nodded in approval. “I like katsudon but lately all I’ve been eating is curry…”

With that he sat down.

###

When the introductions were done, Ectoplasm led them to the large hall in which the orientation speech would be held, in the middle of the main building. There was a large stage, perhaps a bit overkill for the speech, on which there was a podium. From where he stood, Izuku could see a rather tall step-ladder behind it, allowing the principal to raise his head over and get a good look at everything.

The students were arranged in rows, and Izuku had the misfortune of ending up in the second row from the front, on the furthest left in the hall. There were a lot of classes for three years. Four departments, two to three classes per department, for about thirty classes in total.

Nezu was preparing for his speech as the teachers were all taking position behind him. There was an entire row of students missing, as well as one of the teachers from the looks of it.

But those that were there-

Present Mic! Power Loader! Vlad King! Ectoplasm!-

So many people he had adored over the years--

And no sign of All Might.

It didn’t take long to notice that it was Ochako’s class. People were whispering about it already, but the principal didn’t seem deterred by it and began without missing a beat. Was she— was All Might her homeroom teacher? It wasn’t unlikely, but there were many teachers at the school, not all of them pro heroes but a vast majority of them were.

“Hello students and welcome to another year at our school,” Nezu began, smiling, “For those of you who have just joined us today, I am Nezu, your principal.”

The first years who hadn’t seen him were quite vocal. He waited for them to settle down before continuing.

“We have a motto at our school, to not just give it our all, but to keep pushing beyond our limits. In the spirit of that motto, I want you to understand that no pro hero got to where they are now by doing their own thing. No support equipment developer was born with the experience that honed their craft… and I don’t think I need to explain why managers can’t do their job without others.”  
  


That got a few chuckles out of them.

“Of course, for those of you who have chosen to go a different path, it does not mean it will be easier. General education is not basic by far, and our alumni have proven themselves to be capable in their own rights. Look to your left and your right. They’ll be your allies in the upcoming years. Welcome to U.A. - Go Beyond, Plus Ultra!”

The second and third year students shouted the motto back at him. Somehow, the first year students joined up.

###

After orientation, Ectoplasm handed out their curriculum sheets and dismissed them for the rest of the day with the suggestion to avoid the support class development hall if they wanted to explore.

Izuku decided to avoid exploring today. He had, after all, promised Ren to help out in the shop when he had time, and Izuku was kind of desperate to do _something_ with his hands to distract himself. Ochako stood at the gate, making him walk just a bit faster.

“Hey!” she shouted as she noticed his approach. “All done for today?”  
  
“Yeah, it was kind of boring, just introducing ourselves and that speech- err, where were you?”

She frowned, crossing her arms. Somehow she managed to look genuinely upset, which in the short time they had known each other, didn’t strike him as something she usually _was_. “Our homeroom teacher had us do some exercises. It was awful, he decided that whoever came in last would get expelled.”

Izuku’s eyes widened. Could he just do that? There was a certain amount of freedom that U.A. had compared to other high schools, of course, but for a teacher to threaten his students with expulsion on the first day?

“And that wasn’t even the worst of it,” she continued, not taking notice of Izuku’s reaction, “there was this one kid with a _really_ foul mouth who kept insulting everyone. He couldn’t even wear his uniform properly-”

Izuku bit his lower lip. He knew _exactly_ who she was talking about. “I guess he made it into U.A, then.”

It wasn’t like it was in _doubt_ of course. If he put his mind to it, he would do it, that was one of his most admirable qualities.

Maybe his only admirable quality.

“You know him?” Ochako asked. Izuku shrugged, putting both of his hands into his pockets.

“We went to the same middle school,” Izuku said, sighing. “I knew he was aiming for U.A.”

“Was he as much of an-” she made vague motions with her hands, as if unwilling to deign him with an appropriate insult. He nodded. “I guess people don’t change, huh?”

“So, they finally let you out.”

The rough voice interrupted their conversation, making both Izuku and Ochako turn around to find themselves with the person in question. Bakugou Katsuki looked… not too different from the last time he had seen him. Short, spiky blonde hair, red eyes, and an expression that’d fit a hungry wolf more than a person.

He also wore his uniform exactly how Ochako had described it, with the pants barely held in place by the belt and certainly not up to standard.

“Y-yeah,” Izuku said. Ochako blinked.

“You two know each other?” Ochako asked. Turning to Izuku. “I guess going to the same middle school-”

“Tsk,” Bakugou clicked his tongue. “Of course we do. We’re… childhood friends.”

It was Izuku’s turn to feel confused. He frowned, watching his former childhood friend and bully with a critical eye, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“That’s more than knowing each other,” Ochako murmured. Bakugou stepped forward, and Ochako found herself taking a step between them.

“Does she know?” Bakugou asked. Izuku nodded slowly. Rather than burst out into insults, Katsuki simply nodded back, pursing his lips. “How… how’s your mom?”

It was that strange tone. That softer than usual expression. Izuku flinched at the question, but not out of expectation that Bakugou would mock him for it. Rather, the _empathy_ was outright alien to him.

Shaking his head, he turned to Ochako. “Could you go ahead? I have to talk with him.”

Ochako gave one last glance between the two of them, looking hesitant. When Izuku gave her another nod, she left, giving him another quick hug. “If anything happens, just give me a call.”

It might’ve been a more emotional reunion if there was anything akin to friendship left between the two of them. Bakugou took another few steps forward, finally within what would be described as a normal distance for a conversation.

For Izuku, it was the distance that Bakugou could lunge at him from and grab him. He took half a step back, clenching his teeth.

“I visited her on Saturday,” Izuku admitted eventually. “Is-- did your mom visit her?”  
  


“She did,” Bakugou said, nodding. “She didn’t deserve what happened.”

“Of course she didn’t. I don’t think that’s something to debate.”

“You didn’t either,” Bakugou settled on. Izuku’s teeth made an audible grinding sound. “I’m not going to say I feel sorry for you, cuz we both know that’d be a fucking lie.”

Izuku clenched a fist, nodding. “I…”

Katsuki was never one to hold his tongue, which made this situation all the more awkward. Seeing him tongue-tied made it hard for Izuku to speak up either.

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t help you.”

Izuku looked at him as if he had grown two heads, then around just to check if this might be some elaborate prank. Something couldn’t be right. Bakugou Katsuki did _not_ apologize.

And from the look of Katsuki’s posture, the squared shoulders sand the two fists balled at his sides that shook with something that could be fury or frustration…

Izuku sighed, both in relief and exasperation. He wasn’t sure how almost half a year apart had been for his old friend, but it wasn’t any better.

“Kacchan,” Izuku said, hoping the childhood nickname wouldn’t make the boy explode. “I don’t think anyone’s at fault besides me.”

“Save that self-flagellating bullshit for someone who’s going to pat you on the back and let you cry on their shoulder,” Bakugou, no, Kacchan said. Though the words were harsh, the intent behind them wasn’t, and Izuku could tell. “I’m not here to play the blame game, I’m saying this situation fucking sucks.”

“Kac-”

“And I think what sucks even _more_ ,” Kacchan interrupted, a small explosion shooting causing smoke between his fingers as he clenched them even tighter. Izuku did not flinch. “Is that you're so stupidly _content_. You should get angry once in a while, it’s good for the soul.”

“Is that why you’re always angry?” Izuku asked. Kacchan blinked, grinning widely.

“The neighbors are still cunts,” Kacchan said. “So they like to look for shit to dig up. Heard from my mom that you’re on probation, how’s that going for you?”

“My probation officer’s nice, I get to eat really good curry, I got a cat, I made a friend, and--”

He wasn’t sure if he should go ahead and tell people about his quirk, especially Kacchan. It could wait, it wasn’t like his quirk would suddenly vanish, right? Izuku shook his head.

“I got to meet the Tokyo Hero, Queen,” Izuku said, a wistful smile on his lips. “It’s been going good.”

“Good,” Kacchan took another step forward, and Izuku did not take one back. As he passed him, he took a few steps out of the school gate and turned back, glaring at Izuku. “The fuck you’re staring at? You coming or not?”

Izuku swallowed, his hands going rigid for a moment before he stepped out as well, standing next to his old friend on the way to the train station

Neither of them said anything, but it didn’t feel like they needed to.

###

Izuku was still dazed from the day. Kacchan was… cordial, at least, and considering U.A.’s stance, maybe he was on his way to become a better person.

His phone vibrated when he was near the café. He checked it, seeing a message from an unknown number.

_+81205XXXXXX: I’m sure now that you’re out, your mom will get better._

A few seconds later, another message appeared.

 _+81205XXXXXX_ : _Don’t tell anyone about today or I’m going to kill you._

Or maybe not. Izuku sighed, saving the number under Kacchan’s name and moving on. Opening the door to Leblanc, Izuku had found, for the first time since he had moved in, a full café. Ren smiled at him from the kitchen corner, before nodding his head at an apron that hung off the wall.

Izuku nodded back, walking around the counter and grabbing the apron. Looking down, he quickly took off the uniform’s jacket, putting it aside and out of reach from any possible stains before putting the black apron on.

“Welcome back,” Ren said, finishing up a cup and putting it on a plate for easy carrying. “This one’s for the girl who can’t stop grinning.”

Grabbing the plate, Izuku looked around. Seeing it so full was strange, and the amount of talking going on made it hard to focus. The girl he meant was found easily. Blonde, with pigtails and sharp features. Which is to say, rather visible fangs from some sort of mutation quirk, which made her look a lot more threatening than a girl in a beige school uniform should. Was there a school with that uniform nearby?

He shook his head, walking over to her and setting the cup down. “Please, enjoy.”

She didn’t say anything, continuing to smile as he went back to Ren.

“I appreciate the help,” Ren said, winking. “I was going to give you an allowance anyway, I guess I’ll just have to double it.”  
  


“You don’t have to,” Izuku said. Hesitating for a moment, he looked away, unable to meet the man’s eyes. “Give me an allowance, I mean. You’re already taking care of me-”

“Consider it payment for service rendered,” Ren said, pulling out a small envelope. It was thicker than Izuku was comfortable with. It was difficult to say no, however, as Ren’s expression became almost pleading, like he was putting on the perfect mask to break Izuku’s resistance. Taking it off his hands, he made the resolution to work harder. “You won’t be able to take your girlfriend on a date without money.”

“I, errr,” Izuku flushed, remembering this morning’s incident. “She’s, she’s not my girlfriend! I don’t _have_ a girlfriend!”

The last part came out in a rushed whisper.

“Oh, okay,” Ren said, rubbing his chin. “It’s not wrong to go eat out with your _friends_ either, you know.”

Izuku didn’t like the emphasis on the word. “She’s-- she’s nice, but I don’t think we, I mean-- she’s gonna be a hero and I’m just-”

“Izuku, I once dated a girl who I went to church for every week,” Ren said, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I’m not even religious. In fact, I once shot a god. Never believe someone’s out of your league.”

Shot a _what_ now? Izuku shook his head, trying to get rid of the awkwardness. “I’ll… take care of the dishes.”

Ren didn’t say anything, going back to the counter, checking on his patrons. The dishes didn’t take very long. Despite the menu, most people had decided to stick with coffee or the occasional cup of tea that he didn’t even know they had. Once all of the cups were left to dry, Ren waved him over. He dried his hands, walking down the counter.

“I’m making a short delivery,” Ren said, pointing at the disposable aluminum containers he had filled up. “It won’t be long, can I trust you to keep an eye out of five minutes?”

“Sure?” Izuku said, blinking. Most of the patrons that had been there while he was starting with the dishes had already left without him noticing. Only an older couple and the girl from earlier were still there. “Can’t I bring it?”

“The person I’m delivering to doesn’t like strangers,” Ren explained. Izuku nodded, that made sense. “If something comes up, just give me a call and I’ll run back, alright?”

“Yes.” He was trying not to let his nervosity show, but though he avoided any long words to stutter, the quiver in his voice was audible. Ren bagged the containers, passing him with a short pat on the head and walking around the counter, out of the door.

Izuku wasn’t sure what to do. The girl from earlier waved him over. Taking a deep breath, he walked to her, keeping just out of reach in case she decided to put those fangs to the test. “Can I do something for you, Miss?”

“My cup’s empty,” she said. Izuku blinked, looking down to find the cup had, indeed, been sitting empty for a while.

“Do you want to pay?” he asked. She shook her head.

“I want another,” she said, smiling up at him.

“The boss is coming back in a few minutes, I doubt I’ll be able to make something as good as him-”

“It’s fine,” she insisted. “I want a cup from you.”

Izuku forced himself to keep smiling to avoid the frown that was threatening to slip onto his face. It wasn’t like he hadn’t watched Ren do it a bunch, and if she was that insistent-

He sighed through his nose, walking back to the kitchen and grabbing the hourglass shaped chem-something container. He put it next to him on the kitchen counter, grabbing a few beans and grinding them up in the grinder.

She had switched seats, closer to the kitchen so she could watch him. He pursed his lips, hoping he hadn’t used too many beans. It was quickly apparent that seeing something done and receiving instructions was quite different. A filter, wet with some of the boiling water that was probably still too hot, and an unceremonious filling with the ground up coffee.

He poured the water over slowly, watching as it gathered and slowed the stream. It started to drip down into the container, and once enough coffee for a whole cup had gathered at the bottom, he removed the filter and poured her a cup.

“Not bad,” Morgana said, watching from the stairs to his room. Izuku coughed, trying not to let the cat distract him too much. Putting the cup in front of the girl, he went back to, well, the dishes were already done, and the old couple was still chatting away.

Nothing. He was doing nothing. So he watched the girl as she tried his coffee. Her smile had never left her, but it was clear that something was wrong. Either it was too bitter, or the beans were too burnt, or-

“It’s, de-li-cious,” she said. Izuku’s ears went red, feeling stupid over his reaction to such a simple compliment. For his first time making this coffee, it wasn’t bad? Morgana had said so, but he was a cat, it’s not like he understood it, right?

“Thank you very much,” Izuku said, smiling at her. She leaned forward, blowing onto the cup a few times before taking another sip. Izuku wondered if he should try making himself a cup.

“That’s a U.A. uniform, isn’t it?” she asked, knocking him out of his thoughts.

“Yes,” he said. Not with worry or with disappointment, but as a matter of fact. He could, even if not as a hero, be somewhat content with going to one of the best high schools in the country. “I started today.”

“Are you gonna be a hero?”

Of course she would ask the obvious question. He shrugged.

“I’m afraid not,” he said. Maybe content was the wrong word. The direct question ended up digging a bit into what pride he had left. “General education.”

“Ah, that’s too bad.” She took another sip, setting the cup down. Pulling out her wallet, she fished around as if looking for the money. Izuku could’ve sworn that the picture on the school ID looked to be more brunette than blonde. When she had found her target, a stack of bills that were probably beyond the coffee’s actual cost, she slammed them down on the counter and stood up.

“Y-you’re getting change, Miss-”

She waved him off, walking towards the door without any worry in the world. “Keep the rest as a tip, Astraeus.”

Izuku’s eyes widened. Morgana jumped onto the counter, watching as the girl closed the door behind her. Izuku ran around the counter, going after her, but-

By the time he got the door open, only Ren stood there. Raising an eyebrow at Izuku, the man spoke up. “Is everything alright?”

“Did, er, did you see the girl just now?” Izuku asked. Ren shook his head. “The smiling one, blonde, kind of pretty, fangs?”

“No,” Ren answered. “The only person who passed me when I came around was a man, is something the matter?”

“No,” Izuku said, feeling bad about lying. Someone _knew_. Someone besides U.A. staff and Ren. “It’s-- it’s alright, I wanted to-- to ask for her number?”

Ren nodded gravely, walking in when Izuku made way. “I knew it, you’re into older girls, aren’t you? I absolutely understand. I once had this teacher-”

Izuku tuned him out, taking another look outside just to be sure. How could someone with such an obvious uniform just vanish? Maybe a quirk.

“That’s a lot of money,” Ren said, holding up the stack of bills. “That girl must’ve really liked you.”

“Yeah,” Morgana said, narrowing his eyes at the door. Ren gave no indication that he heard the cat’s words, instead just petting him like any normal cat. “The coffee masked it, but she smelled of blood.”

Izuku swallowed hard, a shiver running down his spine.


	6. Coward

Getting into the routine for U.A. wasn’t hard, in the end. It was sort of like his previous school. Someone who wasn’t taking any heroics or support classes would not see the full extent of the curriculum that the school offered, after all.

The only class that differed was physical education.

A healthy body houses a healthy mind, as they say. They, in this case, being Hound Dog, the Hunting Dog Hero. He stood almost two meters tall, with wide shoulders, spiky dirty blond hair, and a muzzle over his snout.

Though they were not training to become heroes, Hound Dog granted them permission to use their quirks during the lesson, as long as they are not dangerous or otherwise problematic to use.

This left Izuku in a dilemma. While his quirk had been officially registered, and his teachers were without a doubt aware of it by now, he didn’t want to stand out. On the other hand, there was that strange feeling of wanting to show off.

Or, if not show off, at least see what his limits were. Quirk usage was not allowed in public without a license, and his room was not big enough to unleash Astraeus.

In the end he ended up sitting by the side as the other students decided on what they wanted to do. The sports grounds of U.A. were massive, as was necessary when met with the assortment of diverse quirks that the students would bring with them every year. Izuku watched as they argued, unable to find the right sport to really flex their quirks.

A minute later, the zombie-faced Shinso sat down next to him. Izuku watched him from the corner of his vision. He did not have the looks of someone who was dedicated to being a hero; unkempt and lazy. Then again, appearances could be deceiving.

“You look like you’ve got something to say,” Shinso spoke up. Izuku looked away, too fast to pretend he wasn’t watching him. “Go ahead, I don’t bite much.”

“You’re… not actually a zombie, are you?” Izuku asked, finding himself shuffling away slightly. Shinso grinned at him with bloodshot eyes.

“And if I was? Sounds like a nice quirk, doesn’t it?”

“Y-yeah!” Izuku’s voice broke for a moment. “There’s an Italian pro hero with a quirk like that, they uh, can’t die and… they say they prefer their meat raw. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

Shinso blinked, tilting his head at the strange bit of trivia. “Well, curry kid, what’s your quirk, then?”

Izuku opened his mouth to admit he was quirkless before shutting again. Shaking his head, he looked over to Shinso with a small smile. “I don’t even know yours, yet. You don’t smell nearly bad enough to be a zombie.”

“Well, you’ve got that right,” Shinso stood, dusting himself off. Izuku followed suit when he noticed Hound Dog approaching them.

“Midoriya,” Hound Dog said. Izuku looked up to meet the dog-faced teacher’s eyes. “Someone’s waiting for you in your classroom. Come back when you’re done.”  
  


“Uhh,” Izuku said, as eloquent as always. “Is something the matter?”

“I was told it’s private,” Hound Dog said, shrugging. Off to the side, Shinso tried and failed to look uninterested in the conversation. Grabbing Shinso by the shoulder and dragging him off, Hound Dog gave Izuku a nod.

Izuku nodded back.

###

Though the campus was large, it wasn't too far to reach the back entrance stairs that took him to his homeroom.

He raised his fist to knock, before realizing how stupid it was with someone waiting for him, and gently opened the door.

When he saw the stick-like figure standing within, he had to repress the urge to immediately close it again.

The withered frame of All Might stood by the window, looking over the campus with a face so dead that Izuku felt the need to apologize to Shinso for thinking _he_ was the one with the zombie quirk.

Undaunted, Izuku took a step forward. All Might turned to greet him, but wasn't able to meet his eyes.

“Hello, Midoriya,” All Might spoke first. Izuku didn’t know what to say, and the silence filled the room for a few moments more. “It has been a while.”

Izuku bit his lower lip. “Yes, sir.”

“I just had a class with young Bakugou,” All Might said, leaning against the window. Izuku ignored the pang of jealousy that rose in his chest. It was unbecoming. “Once the class ended, he walked up to me, asking if I’d forgotten you. I haven’t. I want you to know that I haven’t.”

“He’s abrasive and angry more often than not,” Izuku said, sighing. “I know you didn’t forget. You’re… too good of a person to do that.”

“I wish I could accept that, but I’ve long since stopped believing that about myself.” All Might’s voice sounded tired. More tired than usual in that strange, decrepit form which he did not dare to show to the world. “A good person would’ve saved you.”

“Self deprecation doesn’t suit you,” Izuku murmured, frowning. “Please, look me in the eyes.”

All Might did. Blue eyes lowered to meet green, so that he could see the conviction that lay within them.

“I don’t know,” Izuku began, fumbling around for words, “I don’t _know what you want me to say_ ,” he settled on. “Are you asking me if I resent you? Why should I? Are you asking me to tell you that you were wrong? Well, you _weren’t_. You… you broke my heart and then you tried to do everything to set it right, and not being able to do that isn’t your fault either. It’s-”

He put a hand up to his head, his nails digging into his hair. His contract with Astraeus came to mind: his promise, his oath.

“It’s not my fault either,” Izuku said. All Might’s eyes widened, and Izuku could’ve sworn he saw tears glistening in the dead-fish eyes of the once great hero. “Sometimes things are just not anyone’s fault, All Might. Sometimes things are just how they are, and if they’re wrong, we should work on fixing them.”

“You’re a good person, Midoriya. But there’s one thing you are mistaken about..”

Izuku frowned, the unvoiced question reflected in his eyes.

“I was wrong,” All Might said, grabbing the front of his chest. “I wanted to tell you, but the police had you taken in before I could, and your mother… did not want me to speak with you after I told her what happened between us.”

“You told her?” Izuku asked, clenching a fist. “Why did you, why _would_ you-”

“Because I had already erred once. I did not want to err again, and being honest was the best way forward.”

“I don’t know if telling her was the right idea,” Izuku said. His mother was… not good at handling stress. It might be one of the many reasons she had ended up in her current state.

“Nevertheless, I was wrong. I have been wrong since our first interaction,” All Might continued. Izuku clenched his teeth. “You can be a hero, Midoriya.”

Izuku’s heart skipped a beat, his legs giving out under him. Clenching his teeth, he looked up to his old idol, frustrated, his fingers digging into his shirt. “You say because I have a quirk now-”

“No.” All Might’s voice rose, perhaps too much as the man was left coughing into his hand, specks of blood seeping through his fingers. “In the end, you are right. If it is not our fault, then there must be something wrong, and we have to fix it. I haven’t been able to, my influence is used to deter crime, not make laws.”

Of course, if All Might were willing to bend the laws of the nation to his whims, he would be no better than the villains he put behind bars. Politics was a much more complicated game to play, Izuku knew. Nijima Sae had given him the rundown on the mess of a legislature that had seen him in front of the court.

“ _People like things to fit into their worldview. In our country more than many others, harmony is part of peace, and anything that goes against the accepted norms is unfit to be part of society.”_

All Might was the Symbol of Peace. It was a precarious position. It was an ideal. Once upon a time, it had been a goal.

Izuku’s heart threatened to jump out of his throat. The truth on his lips. The words he always wanted to hear ringing in his ears.

“I want to be a hero,” Izuku choked out. Not _the_ Hero. Not All Might. Not the Symbol of Peace.

Just a hero.

###

Izuku and Ochako had met up at the gate again, though their ways separated once more as Izuku ended up taking a small trip on the way home. Morgana decided to join him the second he was out of the gates on the way to the train station, appearing from wherever he decided to stay during the school hours.

There was a rather large shopping street two stops before his usual stop. Large enough to house a few stores for machine parts and small gears, things he could use to make his replica grappling hook. He’d go straight home once he had everything.

“You’re overthinking it,” Morgana said from his shoulder, looking over the gears Izuku was checking. “The left one’s sturdier, but the right one’s lighter. If you have three of each, it’ll be better than six of one.”

“One of these days you’ll have to tell me how a cat knows how to build these things,” Izuku said, frowning. “And I’m not overthinking it, I can’t just use something that doesn’t belong to me. You refuse to tell me how it got there.”

“I told you, it’s a gift from a guardian angel,” Morgana said cryptically, unwilling to reveal his secrets. “He’ll probably just tell you he has no idea what it is and refuse to take it off you.”

“Because he doesn’t know what it is,” Izuku tried, narrowing his eyes, “or because he was the one who hid it?”

Morgana’s smug cat grin made his frown deepen. A good set of tools, a decent amount of gears and a lot of screws later, Izuku’s wallet cried its last few bills. The pieces themselves were, comparatively, not that expensive. The most expensive piece was the fiber. Sturdy and capable of holding at least three times his bodyweight. Izuku couldn’t even tell anymore why he wanted the grappling hook, but any sort of creative hobby was welcome to him.

Morgana egging him on to make lockpicks in the middle of the night aside. He only bought the tin and aluminum sheets because he wanted to, not because the cat would scratch him if he didn’t.

###

It was easy to forget his worries about the smiling girl who knew his secret until he arrived home, walking up to his room when Ren waved him off. There weren’t enough customers so he could handle it himself, the man said.

So he got to work. Morgana guided him through the steps, the pieces that didn’t fit had to be filed down slightly, the thin fiber properly attached to the mechanism so it wouldn’t accidentally get loose and see him fall.

The gears were the hardest part. His hands shook too much, forcing him to accept the cat’s help as it raised a single claw and lifted the gear up into the right position, letting Izuku screw it tight. A few minutes later, the shooting mechanism, which was powered by the tension between the fiber and the gears, was set up.

Izuku didn’t really understand the physics behind it, but once he had the wrist-bound device completed he felt accomplished enough.

He held his arm out to the wall, turning his wrist with a snapping motion and watching as the hook shot out. Another snap into the other direction and the hook let go before it could pull him forward.

He compared the two. The one he copied, while older and slightly worn, was… harder? Stronger. Not just to carry a person but also the weight of multiple people. The amount of money he had wasn’t enough to get a fiber that strong, but-

It didn’t matter. He shook his head, taking off the new hook and grabbing the old one before walking down the stairs. Ren was reading a book, leaning against the counter. The place was empty.

“Ren-san,” Izuku said. Ren looked up, then down at the device in his hands. “I, err, I found this, up in my room. I was wondering if you knew who it belongs to.”

Ren hummed. “I don’t know. What is it?”

Izuku pursed his lips. “A grappling hook? It’s kinda expensive looking and I wouldn’t want to steal someone else’s property-”

The fact that he had dismantled it a few times to figure out how it worked was beside the point. He would insist Morgana was to blame for it. His own curiosity was after all nothing compared to the curiosity of a cat.

“It’s fine,” he said, shrugging. “I’ve found people who lose things like these don’t know their value, you shouldn’t worry too much. You should just keep it.”

“I couldn’t-”  
  


“Is that why I heard a crash in your room recently?” Ren asked, making Izuku choke on his words. “You know there’s places where you can test things like these, you know?”

“I- uh, sorry?” Izuku said, unable to get another word in. Morgana was laughing from the top of the stairs.

“It’s fine, as long as you don’t hurt yourself,” Ren said, nodding before looking back at his book. Sherlock Holmes. That was ancient, wasn’t it? “If you’re worried about it, maybe check with U.A’s support department, they should know if it’s dangerous, right?”

Izuku nodded slowly. Ren clearly wasn’t willing to take it off his hands, just as Morgana had said, but nothing about his reaction gave away if he was the one to hide it in the room.

Why would he do that, after all? Without any discernible reason, there was no point in throwing around accusations. Sighing, he nodded.

“Thank you, Ren-san.”

“You’re welcome,” Ren said, snapping his book shut. “If you have some time on your hands, how about I teach you the fine art of coffee making? I saw the cup you made yesterday, it was pretty good, but I think we’ll make a barista out of you yet.”

“Of course,” Izuku said, looking over his clothes, then at the hook. “I’ll get changed and put this away.”

###

Thursday, as early as four AM, Ochako and him had met for a light jog. Izuku was still distracted from the strange turn of events that the past few days had brought. From starting school, to Kacchan, to All Might, and finally that strange girl who knew more than he was comfortable with.

Morgana tried to calm him down by pointing out that if the blood-drenched girl were the kind of person to go to the police, she would have done so already. It was much more likely she was going to blackmail him.

Morgana was not very good at encouraging him. That wasn’t to say Izuku was ashamed of what he had done, as his resolution to have his probation rescinded was already made, but it left him with questions. Who was the girl, what did she want, and why?

It was worrying.

The distraction must’ve shown on his face, because Ochako had, by running ahead of him, taken care of leading him off the streets where he could run lights. They ended up back at the café, separating so they could get ready. A quick shower later, he walked out of the bathroom to find Ren already at the stove, preparing, who would have thought, curry.

Today it tasted like grated apples. Sweet and sour, spicy and rich.

###

“Midoriya,” Ectoplasm called out to him after the last lesson. Izuku was halfway through the door, stopping and turning on his heel. Ectoplasm approached with slow steps, pulling out a slip of paper under his robes and holding it out for him. He continued speaking in a low voice. “Your appointments will be every Tuesday after the last period. You’re looking for Dr. Tobita in the office next to Recovery Girl’s.”

Izuku nodded, appreciating Ectoplasm’s subtlety. Taking the slip, he pulled out his phone, sending a quick message to Ochako that he has something to do before going home. She sent him back a sticker with a big thumbs up and a ‘see you tomorrow then’ right under it.

Finding Recovery Girl’s office wasn’t too hard, fortunately. He still remembered the path from his own trip there, on the ground floor of the main building’s front door, all the way down the right hall. Next to it was another office. He knocked on the door.

“Come in,” he heard someone speak. Opening the door and walking in, he found himself assaulted by the smell of pastry. A man greeted him with a smile.

“Dr… Tobita?” Izuku guessed. The man nodded. He was tall, not quite as tall as Hound Dog but still tall enough that Izuku would have to look up if they stood next to each other. His hair was white, like that of an older man, but his face lacked the distinct wrinkles that would betray his age. The man’s handlebar mustache certainly gave him a distinguished appearance.

The office itself seemed like a normal counsellor’s office. A desk in the back, like that of Recovery Girl’s, as well as a small table with two couches around it. The only thing that stood out was the oven that was tucked into the corner, from which the doctor had gotten out a plate of freshly baked pastry.

“Please, take a seat. Midoriya-kun, correct?” Dr. Tobita said, putting the plate on top of the stove. Izuku nodded. “Those will need to cool for a bit, I’m afraid, but I do have a few cookies if you want them.”

“N-no, that’s fine,” Izuku said, sitting down on one of the couches. It was too soft, sinking him into its folds. “I’m here for, counselling, I guess.”

He still didn’t want to, but if his teachers told him to do it, he would have to obey. Even if they didn’t, he told Makoto he’d do it, and he hated breaking his word.

“I had assumed as much,” the doctor said, nodding. After turning the oven off, he turned the stove on to boil some water. “I suppose we should properly introduce ourselves, shouldn’t we? I am Tobita Danjuro. While I may be a doctor, I’d rather we keep things more casual here. Please feel free to call me however you like.”

“Err, alright, then,” Izuku bit his lower lip. “Tobita-san? I’m, I’m Midoriya Izuku. First year, class 1-C.”

Tobita smiled, nodding again. “Do you have any questions before we start?”

“Not… not really,” Izuku said, leaning back further into the soft couch. “I don’t really know why I’m here, I’ve been doing fine. Things have been going great lately.”

“That’s good, which is why I’d like it if you didn’t see this as singling you out,” Tobita said. “Sometimes it’s not about fixing something that’s wrong, and if I’m being honest with you, I’d like it if you don’t see yourself as something to fix either.”

Izuku nodded.

“As your counsel, I’m bound by confidentiality. While I do have to report certain things, such as my general opinion on how you are doing, I am not allowed to report specifics,” Tobita continued. “Not to your probation officer, and not to the principal. Unless you’re threatening yourself or someone else with harm, everything is going to stay between us.”

Izuku stiffened. “I’m not going to hurt myself- what-”

Tobita quickly raised his hands. “It’s mostly a disclaimer on a what-if sort of scenario. Please don’t take it personally.”

“Understood,” Izuku said, pursing his lips. “So, I, don’t know where to start.”

“There’s nothing specific we need to talk about, it’s fine if we just want to chat,” Tobita said. “Just a chat between two people who’ve just met each other.”  
  


“Sure, yes, I, I get it,” Izuku said, crossing his arms. “You say I’m not being singled out here, but it still feels like I’m here because of my probation.”

“Well, that’s true,” Tobita said, shrugging with a small smile. “But you’re certainly not the only person in this school. If you were, I’m afraid I’d be out of a job.”

Izuku found a small laughter bubble from his throat. “I guess so.”

“Well, if you don’t want to start, I think I will,” Tobita said, his fingers twirling his mustache. “Once when I was younger, I wanted to be a hero.”

That had Izuku perked up. Of course, many people had those hopes and dreams when they were younger. Reality would often bring many people back to the ground. “Not anymore?”

“I was not smart,” Tobita continued, standing up as the water on the stove began to boil. “I wasn’t very good with my quirk. I ended up making a stupid mistake, obstructing a hero and injuring a man. While I was… fortunate enough to avoid prison, it saw my dream of becoming a hero in shambles.”

Izuku frowned, his fists clenching on his lap. The man poured them both a cup of tea before sitting down again. A few moments of silence later, Izuku spoke up.

“Do you regret it?” Izuku asked.

“Regret for the injured man, and the troubles I have caused my parents,” Tobita said, smiling sadly. “But in the end, I lived with that decision, and it came back to me in my dreams. Every time, every night I had that dream, I did the same.”

“I- I’m the same,” Izuku said, staring at the dark brown tea. “But… I also still want to be a hero.”

It felt good, admitting it to someone besides All Might. Tobita nodded, smiling into his cup.

“The principal told me about your small bet. Why not tell him about your aspirations?”

“Because that’s…” Izuku began, unable to find the right words. He took the cup from the table, slowly raising it to his lips and blowing to cool it down. “He’s already being so good to me, and it’s still a full year before I can even dream of becoming a hero. Wouldn’t it be wrong?”

“So, if you were sitting here,” Tobita said, pointing at his own chair. “And you had someone admitting that they’re holding back from pursuing their dreams, what would you do?”

Izuku took a sip from the cup, the heat on his tongue making him flinch for a second. “I understand you’re trying to be encouraging, but… isn’t it kind of wrong to encourage me when I got into trouble over a really dumb mistake?”

“I think you have the wrong image of what kind of counselling we’re offering,” Tobita said, laughing merrily, his shoulders shaking in mirth. “I want you to be the best you can be. Looking at you, do you know what I see?”

Izuku shook his head.

“I see an incredibly friendly boy, incredibly forgiving, and incredibly warm to the people around him.”

“I think you’re seeing wrong,” Izuku murmured into the cup.

“Can you do me a favor, Midoriya-kun?”

Izuku looked up, meeting the counsellor’s eyes.

“When you’re home and relaxed, I want you to meditate,” Tobita said, putting the cup down. “And while you meditate, I want you to extend all that warmth, friendliness and forgiveness that you extend to everyone else to yourself.”

Izuku rubbed tears out of his eyes. The steam from the tea was stinging him.

######

Akaguro Chizome was on the hunt. As Stain, he had earned the moniker of the Hero Killer, a name which he resented. A killer, yes, that’s certainly what he was. But his targets were not heroes, those who would sully the name of true heroics were not worthy of being called anything but posers.

What he was looking for were _true_ heroes. Heroes like All Might. Heroes whose spirits were undaunted and whose power unmatched.

_**O Hero, My Hero-** _

His reflection stared back at him with golden eyes, lips that were not his own moving in the dirty glass of a closed store window. There was someone with an undaunting spirit here in the city, he had faced him, and for a moment the radiance was so blinding that Chizome was uncertain if he _deserved_ to stand in opposition to it.

_**The Arcana Is The Means By Which All Is Revealed~** _

The cards would tell. The cards always did. The deck was held high and dropped. When he saw himself, all the cards would lie on their fronts, except for the one facing up. Justice, reflected upside down in the mirrored surface. The uncertain path.

But today, he saw someone else. The boy. The guiding Star above him. _Hope_.

_**We Must Measure The Hope!** _

He had to test how dauntless he was. If he was worthy of being a hero. Shadows haunted his nightmares.

Stain haunted posers.


	7. Battle of Hearts

Though the weather had been getting hotter and hotter, a fog had been gathering over Musutafu. It was thin, like mist, but steadfast and unwilling to disperse no matter how hard the sun shone.

Izuku’s routine with Ochako had settled into exercise before showering and getting ready for school, with a day to relax on Sunday. That Saturday, after school, Ren would pick him up to drive to the hospital.

And suddenly his first week had passed. It felt like it had stretched on forever, but things were getting better with every passing day. Though he had tried to meditate as Dr. Tobita had told him to, his success had been marginal at best. Izuku found a certain restlessness in silence.

Tuesday, during the lunch break, Ochako had stormed into his classroom.

“Izukuuu,” she all but shouted, looking around to make sure there was no teacher anywhere. He blinked, halfway into packing his things. She walked up to him, a grin on her face.

“Och- I mean, yes?” Izuku said, the rest of his books were put away quickly. “Is everything alright?”

“You didn’t respond to my message,” she said. The class, looking at the two of them, began to murmur and chat. Shinso had his head on the table, his forehead pressing against the wood.

“I have it muted during class,” Izuku said, fishing the phone out of his pocket and checking. Ochako’s message was a simple ‘lets go to the cafeteria’. Izuku blinked, raising an eyebrow.

It was strange where it shouldn’t be. Eating lunch with Ochako was not something he had done before, which had not bothered him until now. Though they were friends in the same school, even with separate classes, meeting during a break shouldn’t be so hard. Then again, considering the weirdly busy first week and the times he had to ask her to go home without him, perhaps it was just something that had slipped their minds.

“Is… is that fine? Aren’t you eating with your friends?”

“Yes, I am, and you’re a friend, so hurry,” Ochako all but ordered. She looked over his things, noticing it was all done already and stepping closer, her hand reaching out.

It didn’t feel wrong, being told to join a hero student for lunch.

Now, decidedly less busy, Ochako must have decided to take the first step to introduce him to her friends in class. She grabbed his wrist, dragging him out without much resistance (the fact that her quirk had activated on accident was left unmentioned). Shinso gave him a dirty grin, to which Izuku could only give a shaky thumbs up.

The way down to the cafeteria wasn’t very long. Down the stairs and practically in the middle of the building, it’s essentially the same way regardless from which direction you approach it. Lunch Rush was standing at the counter, handing out food all by his lonesome. Considering the storm of students wrangling in line for a chance to get their food before the break would end, it did nothing but make Izuku pity the cooking pro hero.

Ochako

“Uraraka-san, your friend is floating off,” a boy wearing glasses said. He had a stern no-nonsense expression, accented by his square chin that made him look quite older than most students his age.

Ochako looked up, noticing as Izuku was reaching her shoulder with his feet. She slapped her hands together, forcing him to bend his knees as he hit the ground, wincing at the pain.

“I’m _so_ sorry,” she said, blushing. “This keeps happening, sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Izuku said, standing up properly. He looked at the assorted crowd of people, the hero students, and bowed. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Midoriya Izuku. It would be nice if you could call me by my first name.”

“He doesn’t look like he’d be Bakugou’s childhood friend,” a girl with a frog-like mouth said, her back hunched over and a large finger pressing against her chin. Izuku tried and failed to give her a smile, her words left hanging. She gave him a small nod. “I’m Asui Tsuyu. Call me Tsu.”

“Iida Tenya,” the stern boy followed. Izuku recognized the name. A rising hero in the charts, Iida Tensei, known as the Engine Hero, Ingenium. From the bulky look of his lower legs, Iida must have a similar quirk. “It would not do to let people approach you so casually, Midoriya-san! Uraraka-san, your quirk is also not supposed to be used without-”

“Iida-kun,” Ochako said, putting a hand on his shoulder. This time she was more attentive, raising her thumb as to not trigger her quirk. “Could you lay off him for a bit? He’s not in our class.”

“That’s the class-rep for you,” Tsuyu said, shaking her head. She looked back to the line of students, which had mostly calmed down. “If you want to buy something, you should hurry.”

“I have something,” Izuku said, patting his bag. Ren had been kind enough to start making bentos in the mornings as well, despite Izuku’s insistence on it not being necessary.

“Let's find a place to sit, then,” Ochako said, dragging Izuku away from Iida’s stern gaze. The group was seated in the middle of the cafeteria, leaving everyone to unpack their bento.

“Is it Amamiya-san’s special curry?” Ochako asked. It was, the rice and curry mix still shining and steaming due to the special aluminum bento box. Tsuyu looked over.

“Isn’t that a bit heavy for lunch?” the frog-like girl asked.

“You get used to it,” Izuku and Ochako said, the former slumping, his eyes half-lidded and his mouth twitching downward.. She laughed at his expression.

“You said that the last time I asked you,” Ochako clarified, giggling into her own box. “Tell you what, I’ll trade you mine and I’ll take that curry off you. I love Amamiya-san’s curry, if only he’d make it less expensive-”

“Deal,” Izuku said without shame. The boxes swapped. Izuku was more than happy to dig into anything that wasn’t curry, Ochako looked like Christmas had come early.

Tsuyu, with a not quite frog-like lunch, gave them both a smile. Ochako looked happy as well, while Iida had begun eating in silence, not commenting on Ochako’s ridiculous pace of guzzling the food down.

“I’ve been… learning how to make the curry,” Izuku said. Ochako’s eyes widened, the silent question on her curry-stained lips. “I’m not as good as Ren-san yet, but he’s been showing me the ropes. If you want you can just come to the café after school. I keep adding too much honey, and last time I burned the beef.”

“You have a part-time job, Mido-,” Tsuyu began before stopping herself. Taking a moment, she began again. “Izuku-chan?”

Izuku nodded slowly. “Something like that.”

“He helps out at the café near my home,” Ochako clarified, already through with his bento. Izuku had barely eaten a third of hers.

“Didn’t you say you were neighbors?” Tsuyu asked, blinking at them. Izuku tried not to stare too much, but her large eyes made it hard to know where to look.

“Are you able to keep up with your studies?” Iida asked. Though his question sounded harsh, it was clear that the stern young man was speaking out of concern. “It’s not healthy to overwork yourself, even if you are a general education student, you have to give your all.”

“Y-yeah, it’s fine,” Izuku said quickly. “I’m not having any trouble with the homework and I can answer most questions in class without thinking too much about it, it’s nothing.”

“If you say so,” Iida said, nodding. The boy had crossed his arms, and Izuku noticed that the food in front of the stern young man had already vanished in the time they were talking. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask, I hope you don’t mind.”

“What about?”

“Bakugou Katsuki,” Iida said with a disdain unfit for his straight-laced attitude. “He’s something of a black sheep in class. He doesn’t get along with anyone, and I was told you were friends. As class representative, I feel responsible to see his behavior change for the better, but I have not been successful in my attempts to lecture him.”

“Lectures don’t work with him,” Izuku said. It was surprising where it shouldn’t be. Kacchan was the kind of person who’d gather people around him to suck up, but in a school where everyone has the same goal, and starts from the same spot, it’s clear that his personality would clash with the rest of them. “He’s egoistic and abrasive, there’s no way around it, but…”

“But?” Iida asked, his eyebrow twitching. Ochako and Tsuyu were listening in as well.

“But,” Izuku began again, thinking to last week’s heart-to-heart. He shook his head, interrupting whatever defense he wanted to say. “I won’t lie and say he’s a good person at heart, because I don’t think that’s true. I think that… that working hard to become a hero, even if it’s to feed his own ego, makes him a better person. If the end result is the same, your reasons for becoming a hero don’t matter, right?”

“That’s certainly an attitude,” Iida said, pursing his lips. “I suppose it’s not too far-fetched to see it that way. I have my family business as a reason, Uraraka-san has her own family to support. Not everyone can be All Might.”

Izuku nodded, looking to the right, out of the window. Stain’s weird disgruntled mutterings about what it meant to be a true hero, his obsession with All Might, things were just how they were when it came to the world of superheroes.

Kacchan was a bully, which was not something that U.A. would tolerate the same way that their old school had, and while Izuku could not forgive his behavior, he could move past it..

Because, as Principal Nezu had said, it would be so much better to think about the present and the future instead of the past.

“I apologize if my question was too personal,” Iida said, bowing his head.

“It’s fine,” Izuku waved him off, shrugging. “I like to think that everyone deserves a second chance. I’d not tell you to be friendly with him just because he’s… an old friend. Just treat him like any other student.”

“I heard about some unsavory rumors, which is what made me suspicious,” Iida said, his voice uncharacteristically low. Izuku raised an eyebrow.

“Ah,” Tsuyu said, drawing the attention. “You mean about what the idiot from 1-B said recently?”

“Yes,” Iida said, pursing his lips. “He’s a loudmouth with too much time at his hands, but something about his taunt reminded me. Bakugou was caught up in an incident a year ago-”

Izuku dropped his chopsticks, which didn’t go unnoticed. Iida stopped for a moment, tilting his head at Izuku.

“Ah, did you not know?” Iida asked. Izuku knew he was misunderstanding the reaction as some sort of concern for his childhood friend. Ochako’s eyes widened, Izuku’s confession about his circumstances couldn’t have slipped her mind. He could hear laughter in his mind. “It seems that he was the target of a villain attack, which was made worse by some delinquent interfering with the heroes-”

Izuku stood, the chair making a loud noise as it scraped against the ground. “Ah, is it time already-”  
  


A loud explosion drew the attention of the entire cafeteria. Bakugou stood nearby, no doubt having heard the conversation, his fingers held like claws as his quirk danced around them with sparks.

“Bakugou Katsuki!” Iida shouted, standing up as quickly as Izuku had. “Quirk usage outside of class is-”  
  


“Shut your mouth,” Kacchan said, his eyes not focused on Iida at all. They were on Izuku instead, gauging his reaction. Checking for weakness. Izuku took a deep breath, remembering Dr. Tobita’s words.

All the friendliness and warmth he could give everyone else, focused on himself.

“It’s fine, Kacchan,” Izuku said, giving him a smile. Kacchan didn’t look convinced, instead turning his measuring glare from Izuku to Iida, then to Ochako. The girl glared back, standing up and taking half a step in front of Izuku as if to shield him from whatever would come next. “Ochako. Please, it’s alright.”

“I found that the people who say it’s fine usually aren’t,” Tsuyu said, standing up as well. “And someone whose hands shake as much as yours-”

Izuku knew that Iida wasn’t stupid. He knew exactly that to get into this school, even with a powerful quirk, you would have to study hard to pass the entrance exam unless you were recommended.

So when he saw that spark of recognition, Izuku felt a pit in his stomach. The cafeteria began to go back to their usual chatter again, as if the sight of someone shouting and using their quirk wasn’t all that strange in a school for future pro heroes.

Iida turned to Izuku and bowed, his head almost banging against the table.

“I apologize,” Iida said, his fists clenched to his side. “I understand everyone has their own circumstances, and I should not be so quick to judge. U.A. would clearly not allow-”

“I said it’s fine,” Izuku said, almost angry at how often he had to repeat himself. He could measure it in his hands. All the bad in one, his mother, his probation, his reputation, the stress and heartbreak, the counselling.

All the good in the other, the new friends he had made, the people he had met, the opportunities he was given, the joys he was experiencing.

“Iida-san,” Izuku said, making the boy straighten his back and look at him properly. “Kacchan.”

Kacchan clicked his tongue, walking out of the cafeteria without another word. Izuku nodded at him, to which he flipped him off. Turning back to Iida, Izuku gave him a smile.

“While I have no means to stop you, I would appreciate it if you could avoid spreading rumors about me,” Izuku said. Iida gave a sharp nod before looking away, his gaze downcast. “If it’s any consolation to you, the principal is aware.”

“I’m… deeply ashamed,” Iida said. Izuku shook his head.

“You don’t look like much of a delinquent to me,” Tsuyu said. Izuku laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I get that a lot.” Izuku moved his hand down, straightening his collar. “Goodbye, Ochako.”

Ochako gave him a hug when he left. Instead of his classroom, he went to the nurse’s office.

Izuku went home for the rest of the day.

###

The next days passed in a blur. Though he still woke up early for a jog and still went home together on the days that they could, things between him and Ochako had become more awkward than he wanted it to. Though she assured him that Iida was not the kind of person to spread rumors around, and he knew that she was right, there was another worry.

If Iida could find out, from the taunting of a neighboring class of all things, that Bakugou had been involved in something and find out just by searching for it on news archives, couldn’t everyone?

His name was redacted from all articles and his face was never shown, but no one got into U.A. by being stupid, which meant that anyone dedicated enough would be able to find out.

Which meant that he had to stop being awkward about it. Saturday night, after he had visited his mother, he sat down in his room to meditate.

One deep breath through his nose. Slowly, he breathed out again, the air escaping from his mouth.

“ _The first way for people to accept you,” Dr. Tobita said last Thursday, when he confided in the man about what had transpired earlier that week, “is to accept yourself. If they’d judge you for your past, do you want them in your future?”_

No.

In the infinite void that used to be his room, Izuku found himself more relaxed than he had ever been. Astraeus was there, the flaming visage that reminded him so much of other heroes smiled back at him.

“Morgana,” Izuku said in a low voice. The cat shuffled, likely turning his head to listen up. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Morgana asked. Izuku smiled, taking another deep breath instead of answering.

Without a word, Astraeus’ costume manifested on him. Izuku opened his eyes, finding Morgana blinking at him.

“What are you doing?” Morgana asked. Izuku took another deep breath.

“Introspection.”

Astraeus was strong, but to say that the clothes that manifested in white fire were a mirror of his would be false. The Persona, if he remembered the definition right, was something born from him.

Which meant that the costume was also an extension of his heart, and Astraeus was the reflection.

It was dark enough that he wouldn’t have to worry, hopefully. Opening the window, Izuku jumped out, Morgana following after him.

He didn’t even need the grappling hook for the first jump. Out of the window and onto a roof, Izuku found that Astraeus’ wings were enough. The eerie glow that came from the Persona would be too obvious, however, leaving him with no choice but to test his engineering skills.

His home-made grappling hook was sent out, attaching itself to the side of a building. With a sharp tug, he was sent towards it. The other hook hit the roof before he braced for impact, his legs hitting the side of the building softly and with another whirr he was sent up.

“You seem to have fun,” Morgana said, standing next to him. “What’s with the change of heart?”

“Dr. Tobita told me to do two things every day,” Izuku said, sitting down and looking over the street lights. “Something that makes someone else happy and something that makes me happy. One good deed saves the soul, he said.”

“What did you do to make someone else happy today?”

Izuku shrugged. “I bought a classmate some lunch today. It’s not a very high goal, but I think there’s something nice about the way he approaches things.”

Being in ostensibly similar circumstances, though Dr. Tobita had more time to work through them, made it easy for Izuku to connect to the man.

“So,” Morgana said, taking a seat on Izuku’s shoulders. “Are you ready to learn about your awesome new quirk?”

Izuku raised his hand to his face, the mask burning off. Astraeus began to manifest. “You know a place where nobody could stumble on me?”

“At this hour, in this neighborhood?” Morgana asked. “Considering Stain’s up and about?”

Izuku’s smile slipped off his face. That was right, the serial killer still hadn’t been caught. Though he had been assured that Stain disliked the ‘same’ hunting grounds for his killings, Izuku still felt uncomfortable with the idea of the man being out and about.

“Of course I know one, what sort of bad influence would I be if I didn’t,” Morgana followed up. “Open your phone’s map.”

Izuku did.

###

Izuku woke up feeling refreshed. It was Sunday, which meant he could sleep in, and Morgana decided not to make his bed on top of his chest, letting him breathe throughout the night. The strange fog from the past few days was rather thick this morning.

He stood up, gathering his clothes and taking a shower. A quick check of his phone afterwards revealed no new messages. Izuku wasn’t sure what to do with his free day, which probably just meant helping Ren out and learning more about coffee and curry.

Walking down the stairs, he found his guardian standing behind the counter, a woman already sitting in front of it with a cup in front of her. She was hunched over, her hands wrapped around her upper arms. But more than that...

She looked familiar, inasmuch as she could be a relative of Ochako. Izuku blinked, turning his gaze from the woman to Ren. The full-time barista and half-time cryptid just shrugged, leaving Izuku to step up.

“E-excuse me,” Izuku said. She turned to him, and he could see that she had been crying. Puffy eyes in a similar amber color as Ochako’s stared back at green. “Is everything alright?”

“You’re Izuku-kun, right?” she asked. He nodded slowly. “Do you know where Ochako is?”

“I’m sorry?” Izuku asked, looking back to Ren. He felt a pit in his stomach. “I… said goodbye at the school gates before leaving with Ren-san. I haven’t seen her since then. She was on her way home-”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say. Mrs. Uraraka looked even more distressed.

“She didn’t come home last night,” Mrs. Uraraka admitted. “I’ve already informed the police, they said they’d look for her but in this neighborhood they’re, it’s-”

Ren had his phone in hand, dialing a number.

“Could she have gone to a friend and forget to tell you? It’s Sunday after all, there’s no school today,” Izuku suggested. Mrs. Uraraka shook her head.

“She wouldn’t do that, she’s too diligent for that,” she said. “And I thought since you’re her friend you might know, I’m sorry.”  
  


“Please don’t apologize,” Izuku said, feeling his own eyes stinging. “If there’s anything I can do, please tell me.”

Mrs. Uraraka laughed softly, wiping her eyes when she noticed him tear up as well. As outgoing as her daughter, she ended up patting his head, rubbing his still wet hair with a teary smile. “You really are a good boy, aren’t you?”

Izuku flushed slightly. He wasn’t sure what Ochako had told her parents, but it seemed to be positive. Considering Ren’s job as probation officer wasn’t unknown here, this would make her aware of his past to an extent.

“I’ve called in a few favors,” Ren said, nodding at Mrs. Uraraka. “If her phone’s on, we should be able to locate her. If not, we’ll at least know the last location before it was turned off. The police will call her classmates just to be sure.”  
  


Calling in favors. Izuku wasn’t sure if he liked the idea of delegating something like a missing teenager, a hero student from U.A to favors you had to call in. Mrs. Uraraka smiled at him.

“Thank you, Ren,” Mrs. Uraraka said, standing up. Izuku noted that her cup was left untouched. She grabbed her bag, leaving the café with quick steps.

“She was kidnapped, wasn’t she?” Izuku asked, the dread in his voice apparent. Ren set his jaw as he looked towards the door.

“We can’t say for sure,” Ren said, shaking his head. “But I know everyone here, and I know how their children tick. They’re not going to vanish without telling their parents where they’re going. I called Makoto.”

“You think it might be a villain?” Izuku asked, his voice cracking. He should’ve gone with her last evening. “Someone targeting U.A. students?”

“I don’t know.”

Izuku pursed his lips, his own phone in hand. A message was sent to Ochako. He should’ve gotten the numbers of her friends.

Ren called out to him as he walked up his room.

“The police will come and question you,” Ren said, his voice tense. Izuku understood. He had a record, he was in the same school, and the police would know. “You don’t need to worry about anything, I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

“It’s fine,” Izuku said, not believing his own words. The bitter taste in his mouth was the same as back then. Back when he heard his mother collapsed. When the detention facility let him out for one day.

He sighed, unable to keep his eyes away from the phone. The message to Ochako remained unread. When the police came to accuse him of something, Izuku did not say a word.

###

He was lying in bed, Morgana, for once not lazing around, looked at him with narrowed eyes. It was already dark, and he remained restless.

“Are you fine with just lying around?” Morgana asked. Izuku frowned.

“What should I do?” Izuku asked, sitting up. “Her parents don’t know where she is, they already called the police, Ren-san called in his favors. What can I do that they can’t do better?”

“Look for her, there’s only so many places, right?”

“I don’t know her well enough to know where to look, Morgana,” Izuku said, avoiding the cat’s gaze. Of course he was worried. If Morgana thought his nervous behavior over the thought of his friend being hurt was normal, he clearly wasn’t quite as attentive as he claimed about himself. “I could… call Kacchan?”

Queen could cover a lot of ground quickly, but the truth of the matter was that Musutafu was a large city. Maybe not as large as Tokyo, but even rescue heroes with flying quirks would have trouble combing everything.

Kacchan remained his only link to her class.

“Send him a message,” Morgana said, nodding along. The cat’s voice was hard, in stark contrast to its usual penchant for making fun of him. While Izuku could appreciate Morgana trying to lighten the mood once in a while, he appreciated the fact that the cat knew when to hold back even more. “Makoto too. If nothing else she might be able to tell you if the police found her.”  
  


“Right,” Izuku said. He opened the chat window for Kacchan. As he started typing, his phone vibrated. The message had arrived, and Ochako had written him back. Two words: ‘Come alone’. Coordinates followed in a second message.

And then a picture of Ochako, tied up against the tree of some park, Stain’s chipped sword stuck next to her face.  
  


A loud ringing echoed in his ears. The phone fell from his fingers, and he had the two grappling hooks on his wrists before it hit the ground. The window was opened wide. Before Morgana could say a word, Izuku had jumped out of the window, white flames dancing around him as Astraeus’ costume manifested.

Morgana tried to give the chase, but he was faster. Izuku ended up jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

###

It wasn’t too far from the alley. A small park at the edge of the greater Musutafu area. It was a surprising amount of green for the mostly metropolitan place, which felt off from the get go.

After all, why would someone like Stain, who had usually fought his battles in alleys, choose to fight in an open area? Or perhaps Izuku was approaching this thought wrong. _Perhaps_ , he thought as the sound of his blood rushing in his ears became louder, _he didn't want to fight._

Or perhaps he didn’t consider this a fight.

Izuku knew what he was doing was stupid, but he didn’t know what else to do. If a serial killer who had kidnapped your friend was telling you to come alone, would you call the police, risking her life? He couldn’t.

Even if what he was doing was stupid, even if he was running into certain death, he _couldn’t._

It looked almost too cliché to be true. The park was dark, as there were no lights anywhere besides the small walking path near a tiny lake. Cherry blossoms were still in full bloom, lined up neatly along that way, and under one of them, tied up Ochako.

She didn’t look distressed as much as upset. Her glare at Stain was one of defiance.

“Midoriya Izuku,” Stain said his name with a familiarity that made Izuku shiver. “On probation after a few months in juvenile detention, for obstruction of hero work. A _bona fide criminal_.”

The last part was uttered with such a disdain and mockery that left Izuku uneasy.

“I suppose if society thinks that trash like Endeavor can be a hero, it’s no surprise they’d think some pathetic kid is the same as a villain,” Stain continued. He grabbed his sword from the tree, glaring down at Ochako. “So I wanted to put it to a test.”

“A test?” Izuku asked. Maybe he could talk it out?

Stain pulled out a deck of cards from inside his clothes. He threw them forward, leaving them spread on the ground. Two of them were face up. Star and Justice. Stain’s eyes flashed yellow for a moment.

“I’ve met many heroes. Many Devils, many Towers, many Magicians, Hanged Men-”

Izuku wasn’t sure what Stain was talking about, but the longer he was talking, the less damage he could do.

“But you’re the first _Star_ ,” Stain said as if that was supposed to _mean_ something. “I want to test your justice, hero wannabe!”

Astraeus appeared in a flash of light, sending Izuku into the air with its wings. Stain jumped, his eyes flashing once more as he easily reached the same altitude. A swinging sword, Ochako shouting his name, blood rushing in his ears.

Izuku dodged the wide swing with another flutter of Astraeus’ wings, fast enough to avoid his throat being carved up, but the sword still nicked his forehead. Stain fell, unconcerned as he twisted his body and licked the blade. Izuku could feel the quirk activating, but-

“Patra,” he murmured, Astraeus’ light cleansing the quirk’s effect. The moment of weakness was enough for Stain to come crashing down on him, however, using his body to break his own fall and causing Izuku to grunt as they hit the ground.

Izuku tried to stand, but Stain’s foot lay heavy on his chest. Astraeus’ arm came forward, blocking the next swing, but it did little to mitigate the damage.

Astraeus’ arm was left with a deep gash.

Izuku screamed in pain, grabbing his left arm as the wound ended up on him. It made sense, the reflection of his heart being hurt would cause pain as well. He had to avoid treating Astraeus like a tool, he couldn’t keep going like this.

Izuku snapped his fingers, spears of light shooting from behind the Persona and forcing Stain to back off. As the man dodged the spears, Izuku released one of the grappling hooks, managing to attach it to Stain’s chest. Stain resisted, as expected, which let Izuku pull himself forward and twist around to kick Stain in the chest.

The man grunted, but did not move.

“The Arcana is the means by which all is revealed,” Stain said, his hand grabbing Izuku and lifting him up. He threw him back, but Astraeus allowed Izuku to land gracefully. “You’re weak, not because you lack strength, but because you’re not stout of heart. You’re no hero at all!”

The park around them blurred and bled. The world was slowly twisting and turning into something unreal, half-finished structures rising from the ground, hanging over them. Stain’s eyes, which had kept flickering into a bright yellow before returning to normal, were now retaining the strange color.

Ochako was not there anymore. The fog had vanished, leaving nothing but a strange arena behind. Thorns that aimed at the sky formed their battlefield in the image of a crown on the top of the earth.

Izuku really wished he had a weapon. Something that could put someone of Stain’s weird inhuman durability down. If his quirk was blood related, perhaps the ingestion of it made him stronger?

Or perhaps…

He looked up, noting that Astraeus’ form had become much more solid. He felt _stronger_ , though not by that much, in this weird world. If this wasn’t the effect of Stain’s quirk, perhaps it was an extension of his?

Izuku raised his hand to his face. The mask burned off and spears of light rained from the sky. Rather than dodge them, Stain twisted his body and _cut_.

The air above him turned into blades of wind, a soft green hue surrounding the air as the blades of light were shattered.

“I am Stain!” the serial killer shouted. Izuku flinched back as the ground under his feet began to tremble. “The true self!”

Izuku could see it, a strange glow that surrounded them. It made both Stain and Astraeus stronger. Faster, too. Stain vanished, appearing in front of him with his sword aimed for his heart. Izuku moved.

Stain’s sword stabbed into Izuku’s shoulder, the pain barely numbed from the adrenaline rushing through his body. Gritting his teeth, Izuku leaned back slightly. Before Stain could drive the sword further in, he smashed his forehead against the man’s head. Stain flinched backwards, giving Izuku enough time to shove the man away and give him a solid kick. The man’s feet skidded along the floor as he was sent back, refusing to fall.

Izuku was already breathing heavily. Astraeus was a massive drain on his comparatively low stamina, and the wounds that he had suffered from were still bleeding.

Stain cracked his neck, smiling at him in a toothy grin that promised pain at the slightest sign of weakness.

“Will you rise up to become a true hero, Midoriya Izuku?” Stain began, one eye closed due to the stream of blood from his forehead. The other eye was wide open, glowing in an otherworldly gold. “Or will you perish like a dog?”

_**The Arcana Is The Means By Which All Is Revealed** _

Izuku snapped his fingers. A spear of light came down in front of him. It sizzled in his hands, whirring with otherworldly noises as he pulled it out.

He held it in two hands, holding the tip towards Stain.

… he had no idea how to fight with a spear, but that didn’t matter.

So they clashed. Repeatedly. Whenever Stain gained the upper hand, Izuku would drive him back. Whenever Izuku landed a solid hit, Stain would shrug it off, bruises returning to normal, cuts healing up within a minute.

But Izuku could feel it. Something weird. The glow that weakened whenever he hit Stain. The structures around them turning craggly and revealing weakness.

“You-” Izuku began, stopping as a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough came from his throat. “You’re right, Stain. I’m weak-”

He had no stamina left. Stain was faster and stronger, with a hundred times the experience and ten times the willingness to kill. Izuku couldn’t measure up to him in a fight, and the fact that he was still standing was a monument to the lengths that Stain was going in playing with him.

“I noticed something,” Izuku said, straightening his back and grabbing the mask off his face. “This world, it’s your heart, isn’t it?”

“You talk better than you fight, if only you were strong enough to back it up,” Stain said. Blades of wind were gathering in front of him.

“I think I am,” Izuku said, raising his hand. Astraeus’ spears destroyed the blades, and Izuku’s grappling hook followed. Stain caught it with ease. “Because if this is a world of hearts, someone as twisted as you can’t win against me.”

All the warmth and friendliness and forgiveness. Izuku took a deep breath.

“Because my heart is stronger than yours.”

Stain’s twisted mouth unleashed an inhuman roar. He rushed forward, the sword scraping against the ground, and Izuku braced for impact. Astraeus’ arm came down. Flashing steel, a show of force.

The blade shattered. Astraeus’ arm remained pristine.

“Go, Astraeus!” Izuku shouted, grabbing the man’s wrist and throwing him over his shoulder. Astraeus’ fist came crashing down, like a shooting star delivering justice, leaving Stain in a crater. The golden glow in Stain’s eye flickered and vanished.

The strange glow around the park shattered, revealing the normal greenery once more. Ochako was back, staring at the scene in front of her with wide eyes. Izuku gave her a shaky thumbs up and a grin, blood running down his face.

He could hear sirens in the distance. Flashing blue lights.

Stain stood once more, and Izuku hesitated, unable to manifest Astraeus. He couldn’t keep fighting.

“Run,” Stain said, swaying on his feet. “You won.”

“Ochako,” Izuku said. The girl looked frustrated, unable to break free from the bindings.

“They’ll find her and get her home. They find you and you’ll end up next to me in Tartarus,” Stain said. Izuku doubted that his punishment would be quite so severe, but he didn’t have the energy to argue. He was tired, and wounded. He would need a hospital, they’re going to catch him anyway-

Stain slapped his back. Izuku could feel relief in his body. The wounds were not closed, but the twinkling green that followed Stain’s touch made it easier to breathe and move.

“Run.”

Izuku hated bleeding. It felt cold and wet, and worse than that, it caused a ridiculous mess. The half-delirious stupor that he had found himself in gave him no chance to use his grappling hooks, which left him stumbling about between alleyways on his way back to the café.

He needed a hospital, not a good night’s rest, but he couldn’t risk it.

Ochako was safe. That’s all that mattered. He fell over, collapsing against a trashcan and knocking it over. The bleeding wasn’t too bad, he’d probably not be conscious if it was, but the wounds felt awful and Astraeus’ costume did nothing besides keep him from completely collapsing.

He closed his eyes. Just a minute of rest would be enough.

###

Izuku woke up to yet another unfamiliar ceiling. He felt awful, uncomfortable and cold. His shirt was missing, and he could feel numbness all over his arm as if paralyzed. He couldn’t move it, but it didn’t seem to be bleeding anymore.

As he slowly became aware of his surroundings, he noticed a few things. Number one was that this didn’t look like a hospital. It didn’t sound like much of one either, with the weird echoing metal clangs.

Number two, he was not dead or arrested, which meant that he had succeeded and should celebrate.

Number three...

A girl was on top of him. He could see blonde hair dancing in his vision. A hot breath near his shoulder. He looked down, squinting as his eyes got used to the darkness to look at what she was doing. The grinning girl from last week had her tongue in his wound, sucking out his blood.

Izuku screamed.


	8. Curry Making 101

The flash of a knife. The sound of a cut. The tears of a young man down on his luck.

He had always struggled with onions. Izuku could feel the girl, who had introduced herself as ‘Himiko-chan’, staring at his back. Her eyes were piercing his bandaged form, and he tried his best to not stumble in pain when the wound on his shoulder flared up.

Once the onions were diced, he threw them into a bowl, ready to continue with the rest. Some butter, some flour, low heat, and a lot of spices. Once the mixture began to brown in the frying pan, taking a shade darker than caramel, he added what was needed. Cumin, coriander, clove, cinnamon, cardamom, turmeric, nutmeg, black pepper-

Bit by bit, the roux began to take shape. More paste-like than liquid, until it held its form in the pan. He put it away, starting on the actual curry.

He wasn’t even sure if he was doing it right. The onions ended up in a pot with a bit of oil, while he used the pan cleaned off the roux to brown the beef. Once it was all done, a bit of cooking wine, and it went off the heat so he could crush garlic and ginger onto the onions. Carrots followed once fragrant.

Izuku shivered when she stepped up to him, her hands wrapping around his chest. Her teeth, no, _fangs_ , too close to his neck.

“It smells delicious,” she said. Izuku refused to ask what she meant, dreading the answer. “When is it done?”

“Soon,” Izuku said, adding water to the pot. The beef followed, then some honey, and then some chocolate. Letting it cook, he slowly added the roux, watching as the curry thickened ladle by ladle. The rice cooker was still not done. “Fifteen minutes to let it simmer.”

“But I’m hungry.”

Himiko-chan’s grip on his chest tightened painfully. He grunted in pain. She didn’t seem to mind.

###

“Himiko-chan,” Izuku said, trying his hardest to eat spoon after spoon. It wasn’t that it was disgusting, if anything for his first try alone it was a pretty decent curry. If she had apples here, he could’ve improved on it for certain, but the situation was making it hard to keep an appetite. “Thank you for saving me.”

They had set the table for two. The plates were simple, as was the cutlery. The glass dining table had a few scratches and parts where it was slightly broken at the edges. An unhinged screw would make the glass plate on top slip off if he was not careful.

“It’s nothing,” Himiko said, her hands under her chin as she watched him eat. Her own plate remained untouched. “We’re friends after all, aren’t we? Aren’t you my friend, o hero mine?”

Izuku swallowed another spoonful. Himiko’s eyes, though not unnaturally yellow, made him remember Stain on the day Astraeus came to him. The phrasing was suspicious enough. She must’ve seen him there, that’s how she knew about his Persona. That’s how she knew about Stain.

The half-abandoned apartment looked perfect for her. It was worn-out, yet furnitured. Cold, but homely.

He wasn’t sure if it was hers or if she knew the owner.

“Why did you help me?” Izuku asked. “You k-know about Astraeus, right? Were you there?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” she asked. Her smile widened. “Wouldn’t you save the person you _love_?”

Izuku couldn’t take those words as comfort. The smell of blood was powerful. The twisted expressions, the beautiful yet dangerous smiles.

“I don’t think you can really love someone without knowing them,” Izuku said. He bit on his lip, hoping the words wouldn’t cause her to lash out. Himiko just leaned forward, finally grabbing her spoon.  
  


“But I know you, Izuku-kun,” Himiko said. She took a bite of the curry, unconcerned about staining her face as her eyes kept focusing on him rather than what her hands were doing. “You’re so _cool_. You saved the damsel in distress, you beat down a villain, I want to be just like you.”

“A-a hero?” Izuku asked, trying not to blush at the praise. “Or a vigilante?”

“Just like you,” she repeated, as if it was every answer in the world. As if it was the only answer she could give. The dark brown curry looked more like dried blood on her cheeks. He took some tissues, holding them up to her. She just leaned into it, making him wipe it off himself. He did, hesitantly, unable to keep his hand from shaking. It smeared the stains a bit before properly wiping them off.

“So you won’t report me to the police, right? I wouldn’t want to b-be arrested.”

“I guess if I do, you’ll turn me in, too,” she said. It was obvious nothing about her was quite right. Izuku didn’t want to judge people based on their appearance and mannerisms, but Himiko felt exactly like the kind of person he had met at the facility.

“I won’t tell if you won’t?” Izuku tried. He was still hoping the police wouldn’t just come knocking the moment he was back at Leblanc.

“Deal,” she said, holding up her pinky finger. He mirrored her action. Her fingers were not soft, but callused. Like a swordswoman. He glanced towards the couch where a box cutter sat. Perhaps not a sword. “You’ll have to swallow a thousand needles if you lie, you know?

Izuku swallowed the lump in his throat.

It was a pact. A pact with the devil. Astraeus, ever present, laughed in amusement.

“I know,” Izuku said. The plate below him was empty. He felt sick.

“You should go to the doctor,” Himiko said after a moment of silence. Izuku straightened his back, standing up.

“I… I can go?” Izuku asked, blinking. She smiled at him, standing up and walking around the table to reach out and grab his cheeks. He flinched for a moment.

“Of course, I’m not a kidnapper or anything.” Himiko’s words sounded so casual about it. Like this was really nothing more but a dinner date. Looking at the sun, perhaps lunch was more appropriate. “I’m just your friendly,” her head moved forward, and he closed his eyes, “neighborhood,” a bite into his shoulder, the sharp sting of pain, “Himiko-chan.”

Izuku felt cold dread and a sweat on his brow. Rather than push her away, he disentangled from her weird habit slowly and walked out of the door, turning around just to make sure she wasn’t going to try anything weird. The blood kept dripping from her cheek as she waved him goodbye. He left not with a blush but with a face as white as chalk.

###

Izuku stumbled through the door of the Leblanc, unable to keep his body upright without the help of a hand on the counter. It took a moment for him to regain his bearings, and he found himself staring at Ren and Makoto, who looked at him with wide eyes. Another man stood by them, short bleached hair made him look like an adult who had never quite grown out of his delinquent phase.

“That a hickey?” the delinquent-looking-guy asked. Ren and Makoto’s stares turned towards his neck, and Izuku tried and failed to hide the mark of shame. Should he tell them? Would they believe him?

Was he still in trouble?

“Did Ochako get home safe?” he asked, his voice cracking. “Did the police find her? I’m…”

If Ochako had gotten hurt after he left, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. If Ochako told the police who saved her, they could still come and arrest him-

The thoughts fired rapidly in his brain. If she hadn’t told the police, maybe she told Ren? He certainly looked like he expected a corpse to walk through the door. Makoto was- Makoto was-

Then short-circuited when Makoto hugged him. Izuku felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. He fell to his knees, his head lighter than a feather, his heart heavier than a mountain.

“Sorry,” Izuku said. Despite her strong grip, it felt warm. Full of worry. “The police, they’ll-”

“It’s fine,” Ren said, his voice hurried. He walked up to them, a hand on Izuku’s head. “Your name was left out. We can deal with that later. I’m… glad you’re safe.”

Whatever weird hackjob Himiko had done to his wounds was unlikely to hold. Her saliva probably wasn’t very healthy either. “I think I need a doctor.”

“This kid’s ballsy,” delinquent-man spoke up again, leaning against the counter. “You should’ve sent him to my gym earlier. I’m Ryuji, by the way.”

Izuku didn’t have the time to return the introduction. The door behind him opened, the bell ringing loudly as it was knocked around.

“Excuse me,” a familiar voice began to speak. Izuku turned his head slightly, finding Ochako standing there giving him the same stare as Ren and Makoto earlier. Before he could say a word, she had joined the hug, causing him to cough in pain and discomfort. She was warm as well.

He let all the tiredness take over, his vision fading into a world of black.

###

“Are you not mad?” Izuku asked. His wounds were being dressed. The doctor in the hospital had a very good healing quirk, capable of making drugs that mended wounds within hours instead of weeks. The fact that it looked and tasted like snot was the only disadvantage.

“What about?” Ren asked. Izuku hesitated for a moment, his shoulders shrugging as he tried to move his arms and failed. “You can talk about anything here, Takeuchi’s a friend.”

“You pay me too much to be your enemy,” the doctor muttered. Izuku sighed.

“I broke the terms of the probation,” Izuku said, his voice barely above a whisper. “ _Again_. I did _worse_ even, unlicensed quirk use-”

The bandages were drawn a bit too tight for a moment, making him grunt. The young doctor glared at him.

“Hold still,” Dr. Takeuchi ordered. Izuku did as asked, looking towards Ren in expectation of an answer. Ren shook his head.

“I’m not mad at you for saving your friend,” Ren said, crossing his arms. “I’m not even mad at you for coming home late, half dead and apparently kidnapped by a kinky vampire high school girl, good job on that one by the way. I’m mad that you didn’t trust me enough to help you.”

“Stain said to come alone,” Izuku said, knowing very well that his excuse was hollow.

“You need to put _trust_ in the people around you, Izuku,” Ren said, stressing the word trust once more. “And _never_ trust the words of a serial killer. He could’ve killed her anyway, all you were doing was run into your doom. Want to know something?”

Izuku looked the man in the eye as he approached. A hand was put on his healthy shoulder, the doctor moving aside as he finished the bandages.

“I’m proud of you,” Ren said. Izuku swallowed, his shoulders shaking slightly. Ren’s hand moved up to his hair, and smiling that charming smile he wished he had. One that spoke of affection rather than assurance. “You’ve been doing your best, you’ve saved your friend, you caught a villain. I’m proud that you’re such an amazing person.”

Izuku rubbed his eyes with his arm, unable to keep himself from crying. Ren’s friendly hug made him claw at the man’s clothes, holding onto him tightly as his body shook with sobs.

###

Izuku tried to relax, get back into the rhythm of school without jumping at every shadow. Ochako had forced him to attend lunch with her again, her friends absent. She hadn’t told anyone about who saved her. Izuku was more glad that she was doing alright. She smiled a bit more than usual, she waved her arms in front of her whenever he asked if she could do something for him.

But the classes kept being weird. The teachers gave him strange looks. Ectoplasm in particular talked to him as if he had eaten a sour grape just moments before. Izuku knew that Ren had at least informed the principal and Ectoplasm about Stain, who, according to the news, had refused to name the hero who had defeated him in the interrogation. His insistence that a true hero had bested him ade people assume it was All Might, who had denied it all the same rather than take credit that he was not due.

It was during P.E. when things started to make sense again. Hound Dog singled him out, shouting for him to get over to him. He walked up to the dog-man and saw himself being stared at by some unkempt hobo.

The man who looked down at him reminded him of Shinso. His long hair was black, a scraggly unkempt beard on his face, and his eyes were bloodshot. Izuku resisted a scream

“That’s the kid?” the man asked. Hound Dog stood behind him.

“Yep.” Hound Dog’s answer was short.

“Well then,” the man said, grabbing him with his… scarf? “I suppose we’re going to have a lot of fun.”

“Fun?” Izuku asked, managing to keep the fright out of his voice. The man gave him a predatory grin, reminiscent of Himiko. Shinso was coming walking with them as he was kidnapped from his P.E. lesson.

“Hero training, son, we’re going to get those vigilante urges out of you yet.”

As they rounded the corner, Izuku felt nothing but dread as Ochako waved at him in her own P.E. uniform. Kacchan stood behind her, scowling but curious.

“Class 1-A,” he introduced. “This is Midoriya and Shinso. They are going to be our temporary transfer students for heroics classes, at the request of the principal. I want five laps around the course.”

“B-buh,” Izuku managed to get out, his mouth halfway stuffed with a scarf. “My wounds aren’t-”

“Recovery Girl gave her clear,” the hobo teacher said, smiling widely. Izuku did not like that smile. It looked wrong. He put him down next to Kacchan, who gave him a curt nod. “Use your quirk.”

Izuku hesitated for a moment. His glances around were met with confusion. Kacchan nodded again.

A snap of his fingers and the costume appeared. Luckily, there was no blood on it. The teacher’s eyes glowed red for a moment. Izuku blinked.

“Five laps around the school,” he corrected his earlier order. “All of you.”

Some of them groaned, some of them shrugged. Only Shinso looked like Christmas had come early.

###

Uraraka Ochako was not a _nervous_ person, though many friends in middle school had told her that she had large nervous energies. She was very active, her words often accentuated by large gestures and her emotions visible on her face.

But that wasn’t quite true. She exaggerated to obfuscate. She waved her arms in front of her like a curtain, she smiled because if she didn’t smile, she feared what else people would see.

She stood in front of a door next to the nurse’s office, her hand up in a loose fist ready to knock. Hesitant, but forced, she knocked.

A voice inside told her to come in, so she opened the door and did, closing it behind her to find herself staring at a man with white hair in an apron.

He smiled at her.

“Uraraka-chan, right?” he said, putting a plate of cookies on the table. She nodded. “I’m Dr. Tobita Danjuro, please call me whatever you’re comfortable with. Take a seat.”

She did, her body sinking into the too soft couch next to the table. The cookies smelled heavenly, but she didn’t feel very hungry.

“Aizawa-sensei told me to… to come here,” Ochako said, sounding dubious. “He said you’re the school counsellor?”

“Something like that,” Dr. Tobita said, sitting down after putting cups of tea in front of them. “I know some people have an easier time when they consider me just some teacher or a stranger.”

“I’m here to talk about… that?” Ochako tried. Dr. Tobita’s mouth opened for a moment, then closed. He scratched the back of his neck, leaning into the couch with his cup in the other hand.

“You can talk about whatever you want,” he said eventually, taking a sip of the tea. “People usually respond to stress in different ways, so if it helps to talk about something else, you can do that.”

“I don’t know what to talk about.” The confession felt heavy. It felt like a lie, but she couldn’t have been more truthful. “I could… try to explain, but after a while it starts to sound like I’m complaining. It wasn’t so bad?”

“That’s something interesting about human cognition,” he said, putting the cup back down on the table. “What we think is important and isn’t, what we think affects us a lot and what didn’t, there’s often a huge discrepancy.”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, again, trying to wave it off. She stopped her arm from moving, forcing it down onto her lap. “I don’t feel wrong.”

“It’s not about right or wrong, Uraraka-chan.” Dr. Tobita pushed the plate of cookies towards her. She took one, if only to be polite. It almost fell apart in her hands, a melty chocolate core on the inside around the crumbling exterior.

She ended up eating it because she didn’t want to stain the couch.

And somehow, that did it. The sweet taste on her tongue made her shudder. She felt herself sink deeper into the couch, staring at her slightly dirty hands. Dr. Tobita offered her some tissues. She had started crying without noticing.

“It was scary,” she said, accepting the tissues and wiping her hands first. The chocolate stains leaving dark brown streaks on the white. “It was _really_ scary.”

Dr. Tobita said nothing, letting her talk. She wiped her eyes, but a few of the tears had already made it down her cheeks. She shook, clenching the tissues in her fists.

“I was on my way home and he just… stood there,” she elaborated. “And people were just walking by, as if they didn’t see him, or they didn’t want to see him. But…”

She struggled to find the words. She could see the scene vividly in her mind. The setting sun as she arrived at her stop. The lines of people that became more and more sparse as the buildings looked more and more derelict.

And then him, Stain, and a distinct feeling of dread. Like a cold wind that cut through her skin and into her bones, the dawning realization that in front of her stood not just a common villain, but a _murderer_.

Worse still, his eyes were off. He…

“His eyes, they were focused on me,” Ochako continued. “But he wasn’t _looking_ at me.”

“Stain is among the worst villains,” Dr. Tobita said, nodding. “Because his motivations are supported by delusions, this puts him into a different category from the people who become criminals out of greed or other ambitions. I’ve heard survivors of his attacks describe his presence as drowning them.”

“Yes,” Ochako said, nodding back. She hesitated once more. “You won’t tell anyone, right? About what we talk about?”

“Unless my inaction means that someone else will come to harm, I am sworn to secrecy. Not even the principal will know, and I’ve already removed all the listening devices.”

“The what?” Ochako asked, blinking. Dr. Tobita kept his lips sealed. She sighed, rubbing her eyes with shaking hands. “He told me what he wanted me for.”  
  


That made Dr. Tobita pause. She could see it, through the cracks between her fingers, the short start. “And what did he want?”

“He told me to come with him because he was preparing a… test,” she explained, the word sounding sour on her lips. “I wasn’t his target, I was just the most convenient thing to grab for… for my friend.”

“Midoriya Izuku,” Dr. Tobita concluded. Ochako wouldn’t ask how he knew. She assumed Izuku’s probation officer told everyone, but she had kept her mouth shut from the police.

Because she would be damned if she let her friend go to jail for helping her.

So she nodded.

“What did he want to test?”

“I don’t really know, he wasn’t coherent.” Ochako pursed her lips. “He was ranting about true heroes, he-”

_**Money? What kind of stupid reason is that? Imagine Izuku would only help you for money, you would be dead-** _

“I tried to fight him. I hit him with my quirk, he was flying off for a moment, and then he just crashed down somehow,” she continued. “He grabbed me and put the sword to my neck, he pulled the phone out of my pocket and dragged me away. And _nobody helped_.”

She shouted. She shouted at the top of her lungs. Did people just turn blind and deaf? Did Stain have some sort of quirk that forced people to look away? More than anything, the fact that there was no hero to help her filled her with a helplessness that made it hard to go home alone.

Izuku was waiting for her today. Him and Bakugou, they would talk about something and he’d wait until she came home. He didn’t question why she asked, he didn’t even look confused or interested in it. He said ‘of course’, and it made her face heat up.

“I can’t imagine what that was like,” Dr. Tobita said after a moment of silence. “And I can’t make any excuses for the people who didn’t help you, because there are none. It’s not wrong to feel disappointed and fearful.”

“But I want to be a hero,” Ochako said, wrapping her arms around herself. “What kind of hero jumps at shadows? All Might always said the most important thing is… is a smile.”

She hadn’t smiled once since she walked into this room.

“While I’m a believer of the science that claims smiling is healthy for you, I do believe that is a difference in the smile that All Might preaches and the smiles that help you,” Dr. Tobita said. “The former is to smile for others, it reassures them, it calms them during difficult times. The other one is a smile you smile for yourself, and if you can’t do that, you have to find someone who can smile for you.”

She remembered Izuku’s bloodied smile. The thumbs up. The wounds on his body after his half-hidden fight with Stain.

“I gave that advice to someone else just recently,” he said. “I believe it might apply here as well. All that warmth and friendliness that you offer others with your smile- I think I have homework for you.”

She blinked. The word homework wasn’t what she had expected to come out of a counsellor’s mouth.

“I want you to go home and grab a mirror,” he ordered, a large smile on his face, “and smile. Smile as wide as you can.”

“Will that… fix me?”

“What?” Dr. Tobita asked, blinking. “Of course not. There’s nothing to fix, Uraraka-chan. What you’re dealing with right now, it’s not a matter of being wrong in any way.”

She would like to disagree, but the man’s words felt too comforting to do so.

“And if I can’t?” she asked, thinking of that last night huddled under her sheets, trying not to be too loud so her parents couldn’t hear her. “If I can’t smile for myself?”

“Then you find someone to smile for you until you can.”

She nodded.


	9. Damoclean Velvet

**AN: If you haven’t noticed, I updated Chapter 8 with a few more descriptions and added an entire scene (+1600 Words), please go back to check it out, as I think it’s critical for the further plot.**

**WARNING: FROM THIS POINT ONWARDS, THERE WILL BE PERSONA 5 SPOILERS. IF YOU DO NOT CARE ABOUT THEM, OR KNOW THE PLOT ALREADY, PROCEED. (I mean really it’s been how many years now? Go play it :P)**

**###**

“I won’t ask how you got a _quirk_ now, or how the fuck you beat Stain,” Kacchan said, his shoulders slumping as he paced up and down the gate. “You’re nothing more than deadweight to people if you do nothing with that power.”

“You’re not mad?” Izuku asked. Kacchan scoffed.

“Of course I’m mad, but I don’t get to _be_ mad,” Kacchan said. “We’re not _friends_. We’re barely even friendly. The fuck am I supposed to do about you not telling me? Throw a tantrum?”

“Kinda,” Izuku admitted. Kacchan’s glare would’ve made him flinch, but currently he felt more like laughing. It almost felt like a normal conversation. “Who told you about Stain?”

He doubted it was Ochako. The principal? He wouldn’t have much of a reason. Ren? Doubtful, he probably didn’t even know about Kacchan.

“You think I’m retarded?” Kacchan asked. “You end up here with a bunch of bandages, a new quirk, and that pudgy chick hanging off you like you’re some sorta savior just two days after Stain’s arrested near your neighborhood?”

So he was extrapolating from the news, and Izuku’s question was all the confirmation his childhood nemesis needed to find out. Unlike Himiko, Kacchan was much easier to avoid worrying about. He wasn’t the kind of person who would tell on anyone, not because he didn’t want to get them into trouble, but because he had learned from experience, an experience that Izuku was more than familiar with, that sometimes the truth is not the best thing for everyone involved.

It was a strange realization, having someone in front of him who’s changed enough to be at least cordial to him but also be so… Izuku would not use the word predictable to describe Bakugou Katsuki. However, despite his ostensible maturity (which was also a word he would have to be forced to say out loud), he was familiar enough that Izuku understood.

“Can you talk about one other person without adding an insult to them?”

“Fuck no,” Kacchan said proudly. Izuku sighed, scratching the back of his neck. Ochako wasn’t back yet, at least, but he had no doubt that she had been the target of some of those insults before. He had noticed, of course, that there was only one other person in Aizawa’s class that got along with him, and even then it was because of stubborness in his friendly approach rather than being on the same wavelength. Kirishima was a rather interesting fellow, and Izuku admired how carefree the boy was in dealing with a ticking time bomb.

“I’ll be honest with you, my first thought was just calling you useless, but what you did for the pudge wasn’t useless at all.” Kacchan didn’t look very happy in his admittance, but shrugged it off with a scowl. “So don’t get locked up again, or I’ll kill you.”

“Alright,” Izuku said, smiling softly. “That’s the plan, anyway. I still need to finish this probation so I can take care of mom.”

“Tsk,” Kacchan clicked his tongue, crossing his arms and leaning against the school wall. “She’ll be fine.”

Was that… his way of reassuring him? Izuku wasn’t sure. If Kacchan had a soft spot for anyone, it certainly wouldn’t be his family. Or maybe some of that aggressive, almost over-the-top worrying by his mother rubbed off on him?

“I’m going to beat your ass in the next hero simulation session,” Kacchan continued unconcerned. Izuku sighed, that was the more appropriate and expected response.

“What do you want to do now, then?”

“I want nothing ‘sides what I always wanted,” Kacchan said, glaring up at the building. “I want to be the number one hero, I’ll surpass All Might and I’ll become the name in everyone’s mouth!”

He didn’t shout it, but he might as well have. It was a tall and wide boast, done in a voice that was just normal for him. Most students had already left, but those that were still leaving cast disapproving glances towards him.

“And the old hag wants you to come over for dinner sometime,” Kacchan continued. Izuku raised an eyebrow. “She’s… worried about you, or something. I told her I could just give her your number, but she said something about politeness or some shit. Just come over tomorrow or something.”

“Sure?” Izuku said. He saw Ochako come out of the building with a small smile on her lips. Kacchan, noticing her approach as well, just gave him a sharp nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Whatever,” Kacchan muttered, walking off. Ochako wrapped an arm around Izuku, sticking her tongue out at Kacchan’s back.

“Everything settled?” Izuku asked, smiling at her. She hesitated for a moment before answering, he could feel her arm tense for just a moment. Nodding at him, she smiled again, this time wider.

“Yeah, let's go home,” she said. Izuku nodded back, trying to fight down the blush that was creeping up his neck. She let go of him as they began to walk, and Izuku noted that she looked around more often as they chatted on their way home.

###

A sharp tug. Izuku grunted, another five pushups and he could take his break, but his arms refused to move. Morgana’s form on his back didn’t make it any easier, though the cat was surprisingly thin for someone who ate so much. With a noise that sounded more akin to the howls of a guttural beast, he lowered himself to the ground.

One.

“Come on,” a voice next to him encouraged. Sakamoto Ryuji, the oldest delinquent high schooler you will ever know, was showing him up. The man, not even thirty if he was as old as Ren, had a fitness that Izuku would expect from a professional athlete. When Izuku did one pushup, Ryuji had already done five. The split in the pace became more and more obvious on the last leg.

Two.

“You can do it,” Morgana said. Izuku would’ve loved to just fall and roll over to get rid of the lazy furball, but thought better of it.

Three.

He could’ve sworn his shoulder made a weird noise.

“A healthy body houses a healthy mind,” Morgana continued. Izuku grunted, forcing his arms to bend. “A healthy mind makes for a powerful Persona.”

Four.

Izuku hesitated, beads of sweat running down his face, tickling his nose as they dropped off it. Just one more. His body refused, but his mind did not. Slowly, inch by inch, he lowered himself towards the ground and his nose touched the puddle of sweat under his face.

“Ffffff-,” came a noise from his lips, hissing in frustration. Morgana jumped off him, but it didn’t do much for him. The burn in his muscles made him wonder if he could exchange this for another fight with Stain. Unfortunately, with the man being locked up in Tartarus, there was no way he’d have that rematch anytime soon.

So he began again, releasing steam.

“Fffff-,” he hissed once more, pushing against the earth with the intent to move mountains. His body moved slowly, but surely, back to the top. “FIVE.”

The second he finished it, he fell over again. Faint, but accomplished, he accepted the bottle of water from Ryuji without a moment’s hesitation, drinking as much as he could. Which wasn’t much, every half gulp was accompanied by a moment of heavy breathing. He could see himself in the mirror at the wall of the gym, red all over and looking like he was being squeezed for everything he had.

Which he was. Ryuji was a slave driver. The man clearly knew what he was doing, but that didn’t mean Izuku felt very happy about it.

The principal had eventually told him, his behavior, while commendable, needs to be directed into a more constructive way. He called it corrective action, mostly accompanied by workouts with the hero classes.

“ _As you’re the first person with your unique status in our academy, we’re using you as an experiment to see about the rehabilitation of delinquent youths.”_

The principal’s words were laced with his usual friendliness, but also the powerful sarcasm that only a bureaucrat could achieve, and Izuku had the feeling it was mostly an excuse for Nezu to do _something_ for him. It wasn’t that Izuku wasn’t appreciating the efforts, and the fact that he was able to hang out with his friends, if Kacchan could be called that, was something of a bonus point. Iida had avoided him for some reason, and his side-ward glances towards Ochako during the first lesson made Izuku wonder whether the young man was afraid of facing her rather than face him.

Aizawa Shota was, at the very least, friendly if slightly psychotic. Not in the way that reminded him of Himiko, but in a way that made him wonder if the man was getting enough sleep or if he was enjoying the authoritarian aspect of being a teacher a bit too much.

His classmates weren’t too interested in why Shinso and him were being called for ‘remedial P.E. lessons’, assuming it was due to either their weak constitution or in one rumour due to ‘not wanting them to be singled out due to their too weak quirks’. Izuku would’ve loved to argue that this couldn’t be the case, as there were people with less flashy quirks in class 1-C, but he didn’t find it in him to bother.

After three weeks, people _still_ called him by the wrong name sometimes to get his attention.

But that felt so unimportant now. Ryuji stretched a hand out, and Izuku took it, letting the man lift him off the ground and forcing Izuku to stand on shaky legs. His feet hurt as well from the earlier cardio, but it was certainly not as bad as his arms, that still tremored for a few moments more as he caught air.

“Alright,” Ryuji said, smiling at him. His eyes crinkled as he hit Izuku’s shoulders with a heavy pat. Izuku wheezed, taking all his power not to fall over. “You’ve done good, another week like this and you’ll be fit in no time.”

Ren, upon hearing the principal’s decision, had decided to sign him up at the Ryuji’s gym.

“I-” he choked on his words, coughing for a moment. “Do I have to?”

“I’m afraid quitting halfway through isn’t the way of Sakamoto’s Path of Pain,” Ryuji said, not a hint of embarrassment at the name he had chosen for the gym.

“F-fair enough,” Izuku choked out again. Grabbing his towel, he wiped the sweat from his brow, longing looking towards the changing room. “Can I go shower?”

“We have one more thing to do,” Ryuji said. He pointed at himself with his thumb, grinning. “I want you to hit me.”

“I beg your pardon?” Izuku half-said-half-asked, unable to keep the exasperation out of his voice. He kind of _wanted_ to hit Ryuji, not out of anger, but due to the small hint of vengefulness that came up in his throat. “I don’t think I can hit anything right now.”

“Your quirk,” Ryuji said. “I want you to hit me with your quirk.”

“No,” Izuku said, blinking. The tiredness in his voice was replaced with utter confusion and shock. “Absolutely not.”

“Nah, it’s fine, see,” Ryuji said. His body glowed for a moment. “I’m _really_ sturdy. No matter how hard you hit me, I won’t even flinch.”

Izuku looked doubtful, so Ryuji walked over to the corner of the gym, where training swords were set against the wall. He picked one of the heavier ones, a training sword made out of iron rather than wood, and bent it with his fists.

“I said _hit me_ ,” he ordered. Izuku coughed, raising his hands with great troubles.

“I don’t know- I can’t use my quirk-”

“In public, but this isn’t public, this is a gym where I own the premises,” Ryuji said, waving him off. “Come on, do me in, Astraeus. Show me what power beat Stain.”

Izuku clenched his teeth. How he wished to point out that his victory was more likely a fluke than not, and how he wished that he hadn’t told Morgana the incredible Middle School Syndrome-esque delivery he had given Stain before he beat him. He’d have to deal with that mockery for a while longer.

“Alright,” Izuku conceded. Astraeus’ costume appeared around him, and when the Persona appeared, it did so with a fist cocked back. Astraeus’ fist came crashing down. Izuku held back, of course, he couldn’t just pull through with the punch, but rather than find Ryuji injured, he found the man holding the Persona’s massive fist in his hand.

“Again,” Ryuji ordered, his voice much more stern this time. “No holding back.”

Izuku took a deep breath. Grabbing the mask off his face, Izuku moved Astraeus like it was his second body. The fist came crashing down, stronger this time, with the wind kicking up around it, and with a large sound and shockwave ending up echoing through the entire place.

Ryuji still stood, his hand _still_ in front of the next punch, but he had moved a few steps backwards to properly brace for the hit.

“Not bad,” Ryuji said, muttering. Izuku could hear him whisper to himself, though the actual words were unintelligible. Something about Joanna? “Alright, that’s it for today. I want to see you again tomorrow, or I’ll come to the café and pick you up personally.”

Izuku nodded, sighing and resigning himself to his fate. Such was the cost of the young man who did not listen to his probation officer.

###

Izuku ended up sitting at the Bakugou dining table, shuffling awkwardly in his chair, Mitsuki, Kacchan’s mother fussing about as she prepared dinner.

“It’s been too long,” she said. Her voice had lost some of that luster that it used to have, though when that happened Izuku wasn’t sure. He had not been here for dinner for a very, very long time, since his friendship with Kacchan fell apart over something as stupid as quirklessness.

“It has,” Izuku said, nodding. He smiled at her when she looked towards him, and whatever she saw made her nod in approval. “Thank you for the invitation.”

“No sweat, sorry about that idiot of a son being so rude,” she said, shrugging. Her husband was at the office all night, and Kacchan had decided to retire to his room rather than eat dinner with him. Rather than fight him over it, Mitsuki just told him to get a plate once she was done. He insulted her and she threw a ladle at him. “I’m just happy to see you’re doing okay.”

“You too, a-auntie,” he said. She smiled at the word. Something that had not come over his lips for years. “I… wanted to thank you for taking care of my mother when I couldn’t.”

“Don’t even mention it,” she said, her voice angry and eyes downcast. “It ain’t something you should be thanking me for, I’m doing what any best friend should.”

“It’s still something I appreciate,” he said, unrelenting. “Because nobody else would do what you did.”

For all the rough edges around her, and what probably counted as a few too many hits on Kacchan, Mitsuki was one of the most compassionate people he knew. Someone who weathered the onslaught of bad rumours around and helped his mother when he was away.

So they ate dinner. Kacchan came to take his plate and left again, clearly resisting the urge to sneer at them as he left to his room. Mitsuki was all too happy to chat about him.

About his friends, about his probation, about where he lived, about what he liked to eat and what he did in his free time. He felt himself more and more happy to share, and the slight teasing about Ochako being his girlfriend was denied with not too much stuttering.

It was when he tried to clean up the dishes that she ordered him to stay seated, and the conversation turned more and more into what was, rather than what is.

“I tried to help you, get the neighbors to do something, me and your mom went around gathering signatures to testify about your character,” Mitsuki admitted. Izuku could see her shoulder slumping, and though he could not see her face as she did the dishes, he knew she was scowling just as Kacchan did. “But they were so convinced that the police wouldn’t just pick you up without a cause, and the rumors kept spiraling. Suddenly, everyone was an expert on your bad character. Vultures. Hearing what your teachers said, I almost pulled Katsuki out of the school if it hadn’t been the last semester.”

“I know,” Izuku said, pursing his lips. “It’s… Nijima-san, my lawyer, said the trial was a sham, but nobody was able to really explain why. I ended up arrested because of some law that rarely goes to court?”

Mitsuki dropped a plate, causing Izuku to start in the chair. She turned around, drying her hands on a towel.

“I-I heard your mother say that there might be someone high up who pushed for it. Make you an example for s- _some_ reason.”

He furrowed his brows. What did she mean?

“And nobody knows who? Or what reason?” Izuku leaned forward, his hands on the table. Mitsuki was the last person from the old neighborhood who was actually aware of everything. He could see it, something on her tongue she wanted to say, a moment of hesitation as her eyes grew distant. “You know something.”

The accusation hung in the air. His voice was eerily calm, Astraeus’ presence taking a hold of his emotions. He could feel the soft hand of his other self on his shoulder, pushing him to go further. Mitsuki, still hesitant, gave a start when he stood up.

“You know something that I don’t,” he began, his eyes wide, “maybe even more than Nijima-san. Something my mom didn’t tell her even on the pains of me being incarcerated?”

“Your father,” Mitsuki said, her voice barely above a whisper. Izuku blinked, falling back into the chair with a thud. It scraped against the ground, making a loud noise that caused Mitsuki to start again, looking away in guilt and shame. “She… told me that your father had enemies. People high up the food chain in the parliament.”

“How?” he asked, his voice almost as faint as hers. “My father’s just some deadbeat business man who uses his trips as an excuse to not come home. He’s-”

No. No, of course not. He could hear it in the back of his mind.

“Except,” he began again, forcing himself to voice his thoughts, his arms wrapping around himself as he looked away. “That’s a lie, isn’t it?”

Mitsuki mirrored him, her hands grabbing her upper arms as her gaze grew ever more distant and uncomfortable.

“She’s a good woman, your mom,” she said, unable to stop herself. “But her taste in men, I always gave her shit about that. She said the only good thing to ever come out of that relationship was you.”

“Who is he?” Izuku asked. No, _demanded_. His voice, still quiet, was laced with desperation and frustration. Mitsuki’s hands balled into fists over her clothes, her nails digging into the cloth for a moment. “I _deserve_ to know. He’s definitely not called Hisashi, if he’s important enough to find himself with enemies who’d attack me to get to him-”

“You’re… fifteen now, right?” she asked. Izuku nodded slowly. “He was a politician, you might have heard about him in school once as the biggest political scandal of the century,” her voice was barely a whisper now, “Masayoshi Shido.”

Izuku frowned.

He could remember hearing the name, of course. A politician who had managed to be elected prime minister, who then miraculously confessed all his crimes on the day of his inauguration.

A murderer and rapist.

“He confessed to… killing former lovers,” Mitsuki said. Izuku swallowed a lump in his throat, forcing the dinner that threatened to come up back where it belonged. “Your mother, she was… worried about his behavior one day, so when he offered her money and a place outside of Tokyo, she agreed to leave with you. You were two years old. When the news about his confession came in two years later, she broke down, wondering if she would have been targeted as well if she hadn’t just accepted to disappear.”

Izuku felt a shiver run down his spine. His entire body shook as the cold grasped him, Astraeus vanishing into the depth of his mind. He stood again, the school falling over this time. Grabbing his bag, he ran out of the door and into the night, towards the train station. He heard Mitsuki call out his name into the night, but he didn’t stop.

Of course she never told anyone.

If anything, jail would’ve been the least of his worries when people found out.

The sins of the father hung over him like a damoclean threat.

###

When Izuku came home, he found himself staring at a surreal scene.Morgana wasn’t there, presumably mooching off some high school girls on their way home from school to get fed. Instead, on his table, there was a deck of very familiar cards. His heart stopped for a moment, and Astraeus formed around him in fright.

Stain’s deck of Tarot cards lay spread out on his table. Twenty-two cards, many of them on their backs, but some revealing their faces.

Justice, upside down.

Two pairs of lovers, one the right side up and the other upside down as well.

The Emperor, right side up.

The Hanged Man, right side up.

The Fool, Magician, Chariot, and the High Priestess, almost on top of each other, the right side up. Astraeus chuckled from within him.

Checking each card quickly, he only found the card that the second Lovers had replaced was the Star. Checking around the window to make sure nobody had broken in, Izuku gathered the cards up quickly and put them into the drawer. It was Ren, probably. Or Morgana playing a prank. He’d ask them tomorrow. He was too tired today.

He still had to sit down with Makoto. He knew she knew something. He knew Morgana wasn’t entirely lying when he said something about the Persona quirk. Which meant that, if Makoto had a similar quirk, Ren and Ryuji knew as well.

Could she have passed it on to him? Was that possible? If she did, wouldn’t she just tell him? Or perhaps it was related to Stain, who, too, had shown himself to be capable of things that the media had not reported.

_**The Arcana Is The Means By Which All Is Revealed** _

Izuku let his imagination run wild as he fell onto the bed, sleep taking him to the land of dreams. Tonight, he dreamed of the moon, a bar glowing in blue, and a boy with a hair color to match. He sat there, smiling a soft and lazy smile.


	10. Brighter Futures, Dreadful Hope

Izuku sat in his room, staring at his phone. The search engine and the name he had looked up were causing tremors of fear throughout his body.

_Masayoshi Shido._

He didn't look like him at all. The bald man that looked back at him from the photographs that were gathered on news websites and online encyclopedias looked… so different from what he had imagined his father to look like. Thin eyebrows, a hint of wrinkles around his mouth even from a ten year old photograph, a trimmed beard on his chin.

A face of one hundred and seventeen ordered assassinations of political enemies.

Izuku felt himself grow sick.

The prime minister for a day, Masayoshi Shido’s confession had plunged the country into a state of chaos. The amount of people who have lost money and political influence were too large to pin down on who might have a bone to pick with him. One hundred and seventeen families who would be filled with vengeful feelings, his own party, his _opponents_ parties.

Which left him out of his own options. He had to ask someone for help. But…

The name of the prosecutor on the case. Izuku swallowed the lump in his throat, shuddering once more as he read the all too familiar name. Nijima Sae, Makoto’s sister, used to be a prosecutor before she became a lawyer. It was her last case before the switch.

The reason for this sentence. Life-long rather than the death penalty.

To wither and grow old, forgotten by history.

Did she know? It was a simple question, but it would paint all her actions in such a different light. While Izuku was certain that she was someone who tried to make the best out of a bad situation, there was always the possibility, the suspicion. He _had_ to know if she knew.

And if she didn’t, would asking her cause her to grow angry? She didn’t strike him as a person who would blame a child for their parent’s misdeeds, but-

If, _if_ she knew.

Did Ren know? Did Makoto?

His fingers moved before his mind did, the chat window for Makoto opening up and showing the last messages. She would write to him now, every night, asking if he was doing fine and tell him good night.

_Izuku: I think I know the real reason I was arrested now._

He hesitated before sending the message, but he couldn’t keep hesitating. Whatever it takes, he had to find out. If nothing else, maybe, just _maybe_ , it could help his mother.

A message came back quickly.

_Makoto: What do you mean?_

Izuku pursed his lips. This would make or break it.

_Izuku: You have to promise not to tell your sister._

The read notification happened immediately. She began typing, and Izuku stood up from his bed, taking soft steps around Morgana who was sleeping on a pillow that he had stolen from him.

_Makoto: I promise._

_Makoto: I’m coming over tonight._

_Makoto: Do you want Ren to be there?_

Izuku grabbed his P.E. uniform, changing quickly to get ready for his morning jog, before answering.

_Izuku: It’s fine if he is. He’ll have to know._

Ren’s words from the hospital kept replaying in his mind. Ren was helpful to a fault, if he were an outsider Izuku might have called him too soft for a probation officer, but the man was more than a mentor to him by now. He was almost like a big brother at this point. Izuku wouldn’t call himself a trustful person, not _anymore_ , but it was hard not to accept the kindness at face value.

In a way, Izuku was tired of being tired.

Warmth and forgiveness were much, much better.

###

A hymn that echoed in his soul was sung through lipless mouths.

He wasn't sure how he ended up here. He wasn’t even sure if this was real. It felt real, in a surreal kind of way, and as nonsense as it sounded he felt rather comfortable.

The jazz bar was not too different from the Leblanc. The major differences were, besides the blue ambiente and tasteful music, a large stage with an unmanned piano that played in tune to the singing and windows with bars.

The young man from last night sat there, reading a book. A young woman with white hair, around the young man’s age, wearing a blue uniform that fit the ambiente of the place perfectly was serving him a drink.

“Welcome,” the young man said, smiling that lazy smile at him. “To the Velvet Room.”

Izuku looked around. It didn’t look very velvet. Walking up to the duo, Izuku took a seat next to the young man, noting the sound of rattling chains with his every step.

“What is this place?” Izuku asked. He was just on his run with Ochako when a strange door appeared. He just wanted to take a look and then- “Is this some quirk?”  
  


“This is the place between conscious and subconscious,” the young woman explained. “A short glimpse between reality and dreaming. I am Elizabeth. The master of this room is my friend here, Minato.”

“Midoriya Izuku,” Izuku introduced himself. Minato nodded.

“Of course,” Minato said, pointing at a slip of paper that was sitting on top the counter all of the sudden. “You’ve signed the contract, we would know your name.”

The ‘contract’ if it could be called such was a simple phrase. Izuku read it aloud. “I confirm that all my actions are my own, and that I shall suffer their consequences.”

Wasn’t that his contract with Astraeus? Paraphrased, perhaps. But that was his signature. He couldn’t deny it.

“The last person who was here wasn’t quite as friendly, I admit,” Minato said, leaning over the counter as he nursed his drink. “Do you want something?”

“I’m underage.”

“And this isn’t real,” Minato tapped the counter. Elizabeth had poured something into a glass and handed it to Izuku. “You’re quite the rising star, aren’t you, Midoriya Izuku?”

Izuku frowned, looking at the liquid in the glass. It smelled like nothing, and reflected his face in an amber color. “I’m… kind of a mess.”

Something about the room freed his heart. He felt at ease. Elizabeth gave him a friendly smile, and Izuku raised the glass to his mouth and drank. It tasted like… iced tea? Well, at least he wouldn’t be busted for underage drinking.

“That’s fine,” Minato said, shrugging. “Who isn’t at your age, right? Aren’t you making friends? Don’t you have a lot of fun lately?”

Izuku nodded. “I am.”

“Then what’s there to worry about?” Minato asked. “Go out and form bonds, make friends and maybe seduce a teacher on the way. And if things start becoming too much-”

Minato pulled a key out of his pocket, all but shoving it into Izuku’s hands.

“Then just use this and we can have a chat over a drink.”

Izuku couldn’t give an answer before the sound of rattling chains echoed once more. He looked down, noticing the chains that were around his U.A. uniform that he couldn’t remember wearing. Shouldn’t he be in his P.E. uniform still?

Minato waved at him and Izuku was pulled out.

Ochako looked at him, confused about why he stopped in the middle of their jog. Looking at his stopwatch, he noticed that not much time had passed at all. Giving her a reassuring smile, they continued.

The key in his pocket lay heavy.

###

It was strange, seeing Hitoshi Shinso happy every day. The boy’s unusual gloom was replaced by an almost perpetual grin that carried onwards throughout the school day, exploding into an all out smile whenever they were _‘forced’_ to participate in the P.E. remedial lessons that have quickly become part-time heroics to them.

What was more surprising was how fun it was to actually talk to him. Izuku and Shinso, when the former wasn’t dragged along to lunch by Ochako, had become lunch break friends. It sounded like a stupid phrase, but considering their interaction outside of it was practically zero, it felt most appropriate.

In the classroom, when Ochako had sent him a message that she had something to prepare with her class during the lunch break, he opened his bento on the table. Shinso had already stood up and shoved his table next to his, making a makeshift lunch table for two.

“You look under the weather,” Shinso said. Izuku blinked, looking out of the window. “Everything alright?”

“I didn’t sleep well, that’s all,” Izuku said. The two hours of sleep he did get weren’t exactly restful. Strange young men asking for your signature in dreams were no basis for a proper contract. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Shinso asked, pointing at himself. “I was born to look like this.”

“Is that your excuse for staying up all night?” Izuku asked. Shinso grinned, rubbing his chin with one hand as he put his own boxed lunch onto the table.

“You say that like I need an excuse,” Shinso said, a tint of humor in his voice. “Still, I’m surprised. I didn’t expect you to apply for the non-standard entry to the hero course as well. No offense.”

“I’m not… offended,” Izuku said. He didn’t want to admit that he was forced into it. The details were still not quite clear considering Principal Nezu’s rather strange insistence of cryptic hints and overall enjoyment of teasing his students. “I’m more surprised they took me.”

“I’m not,” Shinso said, shrugging. “You’re really fortunate with that quirk of yours. I’m more surprised you didn’t actually go for the normal hero exam.”

“Ahahaha, yes,” Izuku said, scratching the back of his neck. “I had some… family stuff to sort through while the entrance exam was happening. I was out of town a lot.”

In retrospect, starting off a friendship with a lie felt awful. But unlike the guilt that gnawed at him over these intrusive thoughts about being a terrible person as he began his friendship with Ochako, he had the feeling that it was fine to keep some details of his past to himself.

He wished he could say that he was not ashamed of who he was anymore, but that wasn’t true. The stress of being a convicted delinquent was _nothing_ compared to the idea of being the son of someone who would be mentioned with the greatest villains of Japan.

Izuku forced a smile on his face as he began to eat.

“My quirk’s a mess for the actual heroics classes, but Aizawa-sensei has been giving me some training,” Shinso said, digging into his own food after a moment. Half-chewed food in his mouth, he kept going. “He got something against you, I think. Did you do something to piss him off?”

“Maybe?” Izuku tried. Aizawa was probably not a fan of him, but whether it was the record or his vigilante actions, Izuku couldn’t quite tell. He sighed. “Maybe he just pushes me because he expects more from me?”

“As long as you don’t call him dad, we’re golden,” Shinso said. Izuku laughed.

“Why, jealous?” Izuku asked. Shinso choked on a bite-sized piece of cabbage. Izuku’s laughter became more genuine, standing up and patting his friend on the back.

“I’ll have my revenge, Midoriya,” Shinso forced out between the coughs. “Don’t even joke about that. You know how weird the rumor mill around here is.”

Izuku nodded, sitting down again. The rest of their class wasn’t very interested in them at this point. Due to having a habit of being singled out by Ectoplasm whenever questions are being asked in class, he presumed they had put him into the category of a troublemaker, which was fine by him. He _was_ one, after all, though maybe not in the way that they assumed.

That didn’t stop them from talking badly once in a while. Though people mostly ignored them, sometimes strange rumors cropped up, especially in regards to the heroics courses. Ochako had made an impression.

“That girlfriend of yours,” Shinso said suddenly, causing Izuku to cough slightly.

“She’s not my-”

“Her friend, the glasses guy,” Shinso continued, unconcerned, “did something happen between you two?”

“No,” Izuku said, lying. Shinso didn’t look like he believed him one bit. Cowering slightly under the half-dead gaze, Izuku elaborated. “Iida-san thinks he said something that hurt me. I told him he didn’t.”

“Well,” Shinso said, putting his chopsticks away. “If you were lying as terribly as you are now, I imagine he could tell that you were hurt anyway.”

“I… guess,” Izuku said, not even attempting to deny it. “I don’t blame him for it, and he apologized, but it’s still awkward? He… knows some stuff that I don’t want people to know.”

“About family circumstances?” Shinso asked. Izuku wished the boy in front of him was less perceptive. Nodding instead of voicing his thoughts, Izuku watched as the boy crossed his arms and closed his eyes. “Well, it’s not my problem to deal with, but I guess the only ways you can go is ignoring him for the next three years or confronting him. He’s not too bad, overall.”

That was high praise from one Shinso Hitoshi, considering Iida’s penchant for loudly proclaiming how Shinso’s appearance was unbecoming for a heroics student. When Shinso pointed out that he was technically still a general education student, Iida looked positively frustrated.

“Talking to him sounds better,” Izuku said. At least he knew from Ochako that Iida wasn’t spreading around any suspicions about him. If anything, he had heard that some of the class were more confused about why Izuku _wasn’t_ a target of Iida’s straight-laced attitude towards school work and heroics classes. “I’ll do that later, then.”

“For sure, tell me if you need him to stand still so you can punch him.”

“Please don’t joke about that.”

###

Izuku and Shinso stood off to the side with Ochako and Tsuyu. Today’s class was led by All Might, who had decided to give them some one-on-one combat for training.

Fortunately for him, and unfortunately for Kacchan, All Might had decided to draw lots for the pair ups. While he didn’t have to fight Kacchan, who had protested the decision with loud words and louder explosions, his chosen opponent was Iida Tenya.

Iida, who was still looking skittish around him, had not said anything.

“Well,” Shinso said. “Looks like you’ll get your talk.”

“Not like this.” Izuku sighed. Ochako and Tsuyu looked over to them, the former raising both eyebrows. Turning to her, he gave her a small smile. “I wanted to talk to him about… what happened last time at lunch.”

Ochako nodded, while Tsuyu just put a finger on her chin.

“Are you sure?” Tsuyu asked. “You don’t need to if you’re uncomfortable with it.”

“It’s fine,” Izuku said, nodding. The battle between Todoroki, a young man with red and white hair, as well as a rather obvious burn scar to match, and Kirishima, the rather draconic looking hardening-quirk user with spiky red hair, ended in a decisive victory for the former. Kirishima looked frustrated, but he smiled nonetheless when Todoroki came up to him to offer a hand in good sportsmanship.

“If you say so,” Tsuyu said, looking at Shinso. “He doesn’t know?”

“No,” Izuku said. Shinso didn’t seem too concerned, shrugging it off without any worry in the world. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to talk to Iida-san before the match.”

They nodded, leaving him to do what had to be done. Walking up to the young man who stood next to Yaoyorozu Momo, a tall girl with a way too revealing costume (and coincidentally the other class rep for 1-A), he became the center of attention from some other other people in class. He had memorized all their names by now, and they, too, managed to pronounce Midoriya without any ridiculous misspellings or additions.

Unlike him when he tried to address Momo that one time. She just told him to stick to her first name.

“Is something the matter, Midoriya-kun?” Momo asked. Izuku nodded.

“I… was wondering if I could talk to Iida-san for a moment before the match. There was something I wanted to ask.”

Iida looked at him from under the rims of his glasses, standing taller than him by a fair bit. Rather than say a word, he just passed him, motioning to walk with him as they moved away from the spectacle of the next fic which was Kacchan angrily chasing down Mina, who was using her quirk to slide around him with glee.

When they were far enough for people not to overhear them, Izuku opened his mouth. Iida, however, beat him to it. The young man bowed, and their efforts not to be overheard were in vain when he shouted.

“I apologize!” Iida all but screamed at the ground, his face parallel to it. His glasses were beginning to slip off, forcing him to raise a hand and stop them from doing so. When he continued, it was fortunately more quiet. “I didn’t realize the magnitude of my error until it was too late, and when I went home, I confessed to my brother. He… was aware of the case. I hurt you without knowing your circumstances, and I am deeply ashamed that I have callously attacked your character.”

“It’s not your fault,” Izuku tried to wave the apology off. Iida wasn’t having any of it. The people were watching, and even All Might was not able to keep the curious glances he gave them off his face.

“I was unable to face you properly, I thought if I just avoided you, it would be better. It was immature and stupid-”

“Iida-san.”

Izuku’s voice made him look up. Iida’s usual stern facade cracked and revealed a painful shame, spilling forth with both expression and words.

“I won’t say it’s fine anymore, but please, stop apologizing,” Izuku continued. He put a hand on the young man’s shoulder, pushing him to stand up straighter until his back was no longer bent in a bow. “I’m not ashamed of who I am and what I did. I… don’t want the stress of everyone knowing, but I’m no longer hurt by it. I would rather that we could start again from the beginning.”

“You’re…” Iida began, shaking his head. “I have nothing but respect for you, Midoriya-san. Your heart and compassion are bigger than mine.”

“I don’t know about that,” Izuku said, laughing slightly. Putting his hand forward, he smiled. “So, friends?”

Iida grabbed it, shaking. “Friends.”

Which led them back to their own battle. Once Mina had run out of stamina, Kacchan didn’t have much issue catching up to her, forcing her to forfeit the battle to avoid an explosion to the face. Kacchan looked significantly more winded than Izuku would have expected, sweat dripping off his forehead, his breath haggard.

He gave Izuku an expression between a scowl and a grin.

“Remember, Iida-san,” Izuku said, smiling at his opponent and ignoring the unspoken challenge by his childhood friend and former bully. “Friends don’t hold back.”

Izuku half-regretted the words when All Might shouted for the fight to start.

Iida did not hesitate in the slightest. The engines on his legs rumbled loudly before he exploded forward, his body twisting to kick Izuku in the ribs. Izuku was ready, raising his own arm to catch the leg and wincing when Astraeus’ armor proved to be no match to the quirk-powered round-house kick. While his bone wasn’t broken, it was enough to send him skidding backwards and forcing him to roll under another follow-up kick.

Astraeus manifested fully, for the first time in this class. Ochako had the most blatant reaction, clapping and aweing at the quirk-like projection that she no doubt remembered from the fight against Stain.

On the next kick, Astraeus punched, causing sparks to jump into the air on the point of contact.

It was Izuku’s turn to attack. While Iida was distracted by his shaking legs due to the clash with Astraeus, Izuku rushed forward, attempting to grab him and failing by millimeters as Iida used a burst to dodge.

They clashed once more in a show of sparks and lights. Izuku couldn’t hold back, it wouldn’t be appropriate.

A spear of light came down as Astraeus roared, forcing Iida to back off even further. Grabbing the spear, and realizing just how exhausted its summoning left him, showed once more just how lucky he was when it came to Stain.

The strange distorted world of hearts made him stronger, the desperation to save someone gave him that edge.

If this was his limit in a mock fight, he had to push himself further.

Astraeus vanished into his body, leaving only the wings visible.

Izuku took a deep breath.

And shot forward.

They clashed one final time in a show of light and steel.

###

Izuku came home with a heavy heart. Ochako noticed, but despite her attempts to cheer him up, it didn’t work out. He kept being distracted, his eyes unfocused on the road, and his heart beat with an intensity that made it feel like it was ready to burst out of his chest.

He walked into the Leblanc and looked around. A few guests were sitting there, including Ryuji who was wolfing down a plate of Ren’s curry. Turning to him as the bell above the door made a noise, Ryuji gave him a large grin. Ren wasn’t behind the counter, likely trusting Ryuji to keep an eye out.

“Hey, champ,” Ryuji said. “Good day at school?”

“Kind of, we got to use our quirks in combat today,” Izuku said. It was the highlight of today, a climax before the inevitable confrontation. He took off his jacket, grabbing an apron as he walked around the counter and into the kitchen. “Where’s Ren-san?”

“Out on a delivery,” Ryuji said, shrugging. “You need something?”

“I… uh,” Izuku began, putting the apron on and tying the laces behind him. “I can’t come to the gym today, I have something to do, but I’ll… I’ll come over tomorrow, I promise.”

Ryuji said nothing for a moment, staring at him. Izuku stared back, trying not to look away, trying to conceal his thoughts. When the older man nodded, Izuku sighed out of his nose.

“It’s alright, kid,” Ryuji said, shoving the empty plate towards him. “Just… if anything’s the matter, you can talk to me, alright? I know things aren’t always easy, but they do get better.”

“Y-yeah.” Izuku took the plate and walked over to the kitchen sink. “Thank you, Sakamoto-san.”

“Not for that, and don’t forget, it’s Ryuji.” The man thumped his first onto his chest, giving him a thumbs up and a smile. “I’ll be in the gym if you decide to come over anyway.”

“Of course,” Izuku said, a soft smile on his lips. Ryuji left with a wave. The other customers didn’t remain for much longer either. So he began to work on the dishes. It wasn’t a lot, which left him with not much to do at all. Before the sun had finally completely set, the bell above the door rang.

Makoto walked in, her helmet already under her arms. Her costume burned off, revealing more casual clothes underneath, causing Izuku to jump for a moment. Ren was behind her, looking slightly disheveled, likely from a motorbike ride here.

“Hello,” he said. She smiled at him, coming around the counter to give him a hug in greeting. He awkwardly fumbled for a towel to dry his hands before returning it. “Err, I’m not sure where to start.”

  
“How about we sit down for now,” Ren suggested. “I’ll make us some coffee and you can talk at your own pace.”

Izuku nodded. So they did. Sitting at the counter rather than one of the small cubicle tables, Izuku watched as Ren made the coffee with the practiced ease that he wished to achieve one day. Makoto took a seat next to him, one elbow on the counter, looking apprehensive. Her eyes were darting between Izuku and Ren, until Ren finally set the three cups of coffee in front of them. Ren took a seat behind the counter rather than join them in the front, leaving Izuku the sole object of their attention.

“When I had dinner,” Izuku began, his voice unsteady and ready to fall, “with, with Kacchan’s mom. She told me something that my mom hid from me. About my father.”

Ren and Makoto sat in silence, waiting for him to continue. His right hand coming up to his arm, he grabbed it tightly, his fingernails digging into his skin. As his knuckles turned white, Makoto’s hand reached out, grabbing the balled fist in her own hand. He relaxed, but his shoulders were still tense.

“She told me my dad was a politician who made a lot of enemies,” Izuku said. He swallowed, his voice rising slightly. “Someone so dangerous she didn’t want me to know because it would make things worse. She… Kacchan’s mom said my dad is _Masayoshi Shido._ ”

The name came over his lips with a hiss of poison and curses. Malediction made manifest, crushing what little doubt he had over the man’s status as his father as soon as it came over his lips.

And he saw it. The reaction on their faces, plain for the world to see, unable to be contained through all the maturity that they held. Their eyes widened, and Ren immediately spoke a curse so vile it made Izuku flinch.

However, his hopes were validated and true.

Rather than scorn, Makoto looked at him in pity. He hated pity, but just tonight it would be fine. Her arms wrapped around him, giving him a hug that knocked all air out of him. Ren stood up, his phone in hand-

“Don’t,” Makoto ordered him. Ren stopped, his own knuckles white as chalk as his phone made noises under his iron grip. “He doesn’t want people to know.”

“If someone already knows, we need to know _who_ ,” Ren said. It was strange to see him lose his cool like that, the usually relaxed and mysterious air broken like a spell, revealing fury and concern. Ren turned to him, his eyes softening. “We might be able to help if we know.”

“I needed someone to know,” Izuku said, his voice scratchy and muffled in Makoto’s shoulder. “I don’t want more people to know.”

It was a selfish desire, to protect what little peace he had. He knew that once they started to dig into who might have pushed and bribed the court into his conviction, things that he didn’t want to be public would become public. Society would not be as accepting as Ren and Makoto, what little hopes he could now keep in his heart to become a hero would forever be tainted by the truth of his parenthood.

He had not lied to Iida. He was not ashamed of who he was anymore. But he _was_ afraid. It was a fear that gripped his heart with an intensity that even the sight of Stain could not force into him. The dreadful image of not just him being attacked for his relation to the worst political scandal in all of Japan, but his mother becoming a target of the same harassment on a national scale.

“What about Goro?” Ren asked. Izuku blinked, noticing that he was not addressing him. Makoto’s arms squeezed Izuku tighter.

“He comes anywhere near him and he’ll wish he was still in prison.”

Izuku made a sound, forcing Makoto to release him from the hug. Taking a deep breath, he looked over to Ren, the question already on his lips. Ren shook his head, sighing.

“Goro Akechi,” Ren elaborated. Makoto’s scowl hid none of the contempt that she felt for the name, maybe even greater than that for Shido. “He’s… a friend. And if Shido is your father, then you two are half-brothers.”

“What?” Izuku asked. He had a brother? Not by the same mother, that’s for sure, and considering the amount of cases of sexual assault that his father had been convicted on as well, there was no doubt that he might have more than just that one. “Is… who is he?”

“He used to be a detective back when we were all in high school,” Makoto explained. “He was… not well. We haven’t seen him in years. I don’t think you’ll want to meet him.”

“I think… I think I do?” Izuku said. Makoto’s disapproving glare melted when she saw the look in his eyes. The desperation to understand. “It doesn’t have to be soon, I just… want to ask him something.”

“I’ll see if I can’t contact him, if no one else has his number, Sae does.” Ren put his phone back into his pocket, sighing and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

So, so many things that he wanted to ask in the end. The man was also in prison, right? He had the feeling if he asked what for, Ren and Makoto would lie, or worse, tell him the truth. So he held back.

“ _Aren’t you making friends? Don’t you have a lot of fun lately?”_

He did. He really did. He had friends and rivalries. He had, as weird as it sounded, the respect of a villain, and the strange obsession of a girl who had too much fun drinking blood. The workouts were painful and fun, the heroics students were friendly and welcoming.

Izuku stood up on shaky legs, taking a few steps away from them. His legs gave up, causing him to catch himself on one of the stools. Makoto stood quickly, but stopped when he raised his hand.

“Thank you,” Izuku said. He wouldn’t cry. Not tonight. His voice steady, he raised his face to give them a smile. He knew this was not the end but the start of a lot of trouble, he knew that so many more things would come at him that would try to make him lose hope.

_**I am thou, thou art I-** _

“I know I’m asking a lot from you,” Izuku said, bowing his head again. “Thank you for not- for not rejecting me. I knew you wouldn’t, but-”

_**Thou hast acquired a new vow.** _

“I… know you should tell Principal Nezu about it,” Izuku said to Ren, who nodded. “It’s fine, but… but please don’t tell Nijima-san.”

“My sister isn’t the kind of person who’d judge you over this,” Makoto said. Izuku shook his head.

“That’s not it, if she’s anything like you, she’ll run head first into the mess,” he said. Ren laughed, causing Makoto to turn around and glare at him. “I don’t want her to risk something over nothing.”

  
“This isn’t _nothing_ , Izuku,” she said, scowling at him. “This is your entire future messed up by some person with a vendetta.”

_**It shall become the wings of rebellion that breaketh thy chains of captivity.** _

“And I want to take care of that,” Izuku said. Makoto’s scowl faded into a raised eyebrow, asking him to elaborate. “Once the probation is over, Principal Nezu promised to have my record stricken. I’ll be in my second year at U.A. then. That way, if we look into it, it won’t be as bad, will it?”

“That’s… not wrong,” Ren said, crossing his arms. “It might be easier that way, but that reputation isn’t _fun_ until then, it’s… painful, you don’t have to suffer through it.”

_**You have obtained the winds of blessing that shall lead to freedom and power.** _

“I’m not suffering,” Izuku said, still smiling. Still relieved. “And if I was, I’m not alone. I have you two, Morgana, Ryuji-san. Ochako, Shinso, even Kacchan-”

He had a tailwind. He had hero training and allies.

That bastard Shido would not define his life. He refused to be a pawn of that fate. He rejected the villain that society would make out of him.

Makoto and Ren smiled back at him.

“That’s why,” Izuku concluded, Astraeus forming around him. “I want to do great at the Sports Festival! Please, Makoto-san! Teach me about Persona!”

Makoto spluttered for a moment, unable to form words properly. Ren, however, began to laugh. It started in a slow, rolling chuckle, and became a roaring laughter by the end of it.

Izuku’s smile never once slipped off his face.


	11. The Hymn of Fear

**AN: I’m glad the last chapter hit off well. The story remains one of the most fun things to write for me, though I’m still uncertain if I want to do the sports festival arc as such (I really dislike the stations of canon, and I don’t do action well), so I guess we’ll see.**

**###**

Dr. Tobita’s office smelled heavenly as usual. Izuku sat on the too-soft couch and stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore how his muscles occasionally spasmed from yesterday’s workout. Dr. Tobita was on the phone, talking to his wife, leaving Izuku alone with his thoughts.

Ren’s ominous warning about old men with long noses offering candy was quickly forgotten when Makoto called Ryuji to make a plan for his training. He had guessed that if Makoto had a Persona-quirk, if it could be called that anymore considering the inconsistent terminology, her friends would know.

He had not guessed that Ren and Ryuji, too, were able to summon them. According to them, Makoto was the only one who wanted to pursue law enforcement in the end, leaving her to become a hero with the power of her Joanna.

The fact that Makoto was quirkless besides just added to his deep respect for her.

They couldn’t quite explain what a Persona was, they couldn’t put into words where they came from, as it seems that there were many ways for them to awaken. But they could agree on one thing, ‘a healthy body houses a healthy mind’ was almost literal.

So he was grinding his way through exercises.

Dr. Tobita finished the phone call, putting his phone away and grabbing the teapot.

“I apologize,” Dr. Tobita said, laughing merrily. “It seems I should buy more sugar before coming here, as stealing it from our pantry makes her angry. How are you today?”

“Fine, I think,” Izuku said, looking at the cup as Dr. Tobita poured him tea. A slice of cake was already sitting there, untouched. “It’s been going well.”

“But?” Dr. Tobita asked. Izuku furrowed his eyebrows, looking away. “I apologize, I don’t mean to pry, but I find that when spoken with such a tone people usually want to say something.”

Izuku couldn’t fault him. He had used the same kind of logic with Mitsuki. She wanted to tell him, and he was thankful that she made it so obvious.

“I recently found out something about myself that I’m not comfortable with,” Izuku said. It was always different talking to Dr. Tobita, the usual doubts of being judged over things outside of his control were not there. Izuku wasn’t sure if it was the man’s own confession of his past from the very day appointment he had, or the status as a professional who had gone out of his way to establish that these conversations would be private. “That my father was… a bad man. I always knew my mother had lied about him, but to this extent was… not expected.”

“Ah,” Dr. Tobita said, a sad smile on his lips. “Are you angry she lied?”

“No,” Izuku said, stopping himself for a moment. “Kind of. I get the reason. I don’t like it, but I understand, if that makes sense?”

“It’s a mature reaction, yes,” Dr. Tobita said, leaning forward to take his cup from the table. Slowly raising it towards him to avoid spillage, he leaned back into the couch. “Though I would’ve understood if you were more angry about it. You’re fifteen years old, there is nothing wrong with being angry and upset about being lied to.”

“Anger wouldn’t fix the past,” Izuku said diplomatically. Not with where his mother was now, after all. “It would just make the future more painful. Didn’t you say that to me once?”

“Something in that direction.” Dr. Tobita nodded, sipping on the tea. Izuku took a fork to the slice of cake that sat in front of him. “That’s not to say anger is always a negative reaction, of course. Like many things it can be a coping mechanism, but as with any outward negative emotions we must not lose ourselves in them. You were angry, weren’t you?”

“When I found out, yes,” Izuku said, thinking back to the night and putting the fork onto the plate after a bite. “I ran out on the person who told me, I still need to apologize.”

“I think they know, but if you want a good apology, I can offer you some cookies to bring them,” Dr. Tobita said. Izuku resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “But I can see you’re not too hung up on it. Did something good happen this week?”

“I’m happy,” Izuku said, smiling into his own cup of tea. “I’m working out a ton, I’m getting heroics training, I have friends to hang out with. I’m looking forward to the sports festival.”

“I did hear that you wanted to make an impression there. Do you feel up to it?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Izuku said, nodding.

###

When Ectoplasm called out to him before the lunch break, he knew something was coming up. Izuku was used to being sent up to the principal, for one reason or another, though rarely with such a vigor and insistence. The fact that he had done so loudly and without hesitation in front of the class gave the impression that he was in trouble.

Objectively, Izuku knew that couldn’t be true. Subjectively, he did feel a bit of dread when he stood in front of the hardwood door to the office and knocked. The principal bid him to come in, and he found himself looking into Ochako’s eyes. She sat in one of the chairs in front of the principal’s desk, having turned around when she heard the door open.

“

“Is something the matter, Principal Nezu?” Izuku asked. Ochako was sitting with her hands on her knees, clearly nervous as she looked down with her eyes darting all over the ground. It might be the first time for her to be called to the principal’s office.

“There’s something that concerns both of you,” he said. The usual cheerful voice was reduced to a serious incantation. “What I’m telling you here must not be shared. You will understand.”

“Of course,” Izuku said at the same time as Ochako nodded, her head bobbing up and down in a slightly too exaggerated motion. Nezu took a moment, staring at them as if gauging their honesty. Whatever he saw made him nod in appreciation.

“Stain broke out of Tartarus.”

Izuku stood up, the chair falling to the ground behind him. His eyes moved to Ochako, whose skin had taken a pale color akin to paper, all the red of her usually perpetual blush draining away into a formless dread that caused her shoulders to shake.

“It goes without saying that you’re persons of interest in this case, as he might want to take revenge,” Nezu said. Ochako looked over to Izuku, her lips moving in a voiceless question.

“He knows,” Izuku said, nodding at her. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he pulled back when she flinched into herself. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Nothing,” the principal said. Izuku blinked. “Though I won’t deny that your actions were, while highly illegal and dangerous, impressive, this is something that the adults and the pro heroes have to handle. We have already established that the Tokyo Hero _Queen_ will be housing in your neighborhood. You’ll be under protection until Stain is captured again.”

“And if he isn’t?” Izuku asked. Ochako’s eyes widened, and he quickly corrected himself. “If he isn’t after us, I mean. What if he doesn’t come to Musutafu?”

“Then we will find out over the next few weeks or months, however long it takes for the special taskforce to decide that you’re out of danger.”

“And until then… escorts? Surveillance? I’m not comfortable with that,” Izuku admitted, mumbling the last part.”

“We’re stationing a hero around your neighborhood at all times, we would like if you could write down your numbers so we can contact you in the cases of an emergency,” the principal pushed forward some paper. Izuku wrote his number down, and upon looking towards Ochako and receiving her nod, did the same with her number. “There are heroes around train stations at all times anyway, so not much will change. The… circumstances are technically dire enough that public quirk use in the defense of others will be permitted without a license, though the school remains liable. I hope you will remain discrete.”

“Is that different from usual?” Izuku asked. Nezu nodded.

“You misunderstand, Izuku-kun.” Principal Nezu’s voice made him shrink. “You don’t simply _break out_ of Tartarus. It is without an exaggeration the most secure place in the world, built with the funds and efforts of people who were prepared to contain those who might equal All Might.”

Izuku knew who they meant. The one who carved that scar into All Might’s body and left him half the hero he was.

“He might have had help from outside,” Izuku concluded, blinking. “Or perhaps it was an aspect of his… quirk.”

The strange world of hearts. The pillars of their arena.

“He can make himself invisible, or something like it,” Ochako said, her voice faint. “He did that when… when he took me.”

Izuku felt a ringing in his ears. He had to speak up. “I think he can shift? Into a different world of sorts. When we fought, we ended up there.”

“This fits with the reports from Queen,” Nezu said. Izuku pursed his lips. Of course she knows the strange world, the Persona users, and whatever strange yellow glow appeared in Stain’s eyes were related somehow. “I apologize for dropping this on you so suddenly. If we could be certain, we would have liked to spare you the stress, but-”

“I understand,” Ochako said. Some of the color had come back to her face. Her eyes moved to Izuku. Standing up, she grabbed his arm suddenly, pulling him towards her. “We understand.”

Izuku wasn’t sure he liked the look in Ochako’s eyes. The almost desperate eager-to-please attitude that he had only weeks ago. The desire to say you were doing fine when you weren’t.

“Due to the circumstances, we’d like for you two to go home for today. We’ll inform your teachers. Once again, this is our failure. I’m sorry.”

Izuku wrapped an arm around her. She was still shaking when they left.

###

When Izuku woke up chained in the Velvet Room, he took it in stride. Though the chains were rattling and heavy, he felt at ease, sitting at the bar as Elizabeth prepared him a drink. Minato sat next to him, reading his book like usual, drinking what looked like whiskey.

“Do you ever feel like the universe is conspiring against you?” Izuku asked. Minato coughed.

“A lot,” Minato answered. “Then again, that’s just being a teenager-”

“My father, my arrest, Stain,” Izuku listed. “Ochako looked so scared, the Sports Festival coming up.”

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” Minato asked. Izuku nodded, watching as the young woman poured him a cup of tea. Milk was added. “The Velvet Room is a place that appears in our hours of need. Even if you didn’t have the key, you would have come here tonight. It seems you want to talk about something.”

“I don’t think I’m strong enough to do it again,” Izuku said, nursing the cup of milk tea in front of him. “I… don’t think Stain is coming after me again, but I can’t put the why into words. But just because it’s not him doesn’t mean there won’t be others, people who are after revenge for my father who won’t hesitate in attacking my friends.”

“You’re compassionate and have good allies, but you seem to have a wrong image of yourself, Izuku.”

“What do you mean?” Izuku asked. “Dr. Tobita said… well, many things. I’m just trying to be objective. I was lucky with Stain, and not everyone will attack me head on.”

“You say that, and you’re not tall, dark and brooding enough to go for the loner road. Have you considered just doing what you’ve been doing?”

“Which is?” Izuku asked, ignoring the jab at his height.

“Relying on the people around you, trusting that your friends will help you when you meet an adversary.”

“I do that-” Izuku said. That was what Minato was saying. “But I don’t want to be in their way, I want to help them, too. I just feel inadequate.”

“When you’re not justice, who are you?” Minato asked. Izuku frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“What I said,” Minato said, standing up, the book forgotten on the bar counter. He raised his arms, the music stopping. “When you’re not Astraeus, when that mask slips away because you don’t have to fight, who are you? A friend? Someone’s boyfriend? Maybe a villain?”

“No?” Izuku said, red creeping up his face. He stood up, walking to the stage where Minato had decided to start the spectacle. “Well, I’m a friend to some people I guess. I-I don’t have a girlfriend. And just because some people think I’m criminal doesn’t mean I’m a villain.”

Minato snapped his fingers. Cards appeared, cards he was more than familiar with now. Minato grabbed them all, pulling out those which were face up and discarding the others.

“Pick,” he said, holding the cards up to Izuku. The boy blinked, his hand reaching out before pulling back again. One more card has been added since last time. Temperance, right side up.

“What is this?”

“A service we offer our dear patrons,” Minato said, smiling. Leaning forward, the young man whispered. “It’s my first time. Be gentle.”

Elizabeth giggled behind him. Izuku blushed, grabbing the card that he was sure corresponded to his friendship with Ochako. The Lovers card became shards of light, gathering in the air. He coughed, a strange feeling in his chest exploding outwards until Astraeus appeared without summoning.

The Persona grabbed the light, turning around and giving him a lipless smile. Astraeus vanished, and in his place was now a knight. Rather than the inhuman appearance of his Persona, the knight took on a much more human form. Armored, tall and stalwart, armed with a sword, staring back at him with amber eyes that reminded him of Ochako. The knight bowed. Minato blinked.

“That’s…” Minato said, holding up a card depicting the knight of swords. “Not supposed to happen. Elizabeth-”

“A fusion accident,” Elizabeth said. Minato gave her a look that Izuku could only describe as pouting. “It’s fine, master. It happens to all of us once in a while.”

“I am Roland,” the knight introduced himself, his sword in hand and one fist on his chest. “I shall become your sword, until the day you do not need me. Show courage, my master.”

He shattered, his light fusing with Izuku’s body.

“W-what?” Izuku asked, his hands coming to his chest and patting all over his torso. “Did… did you just replace Astraeus?”

“Of course not,” Minato said, glancing over to Elizabeth who gave him an unsubtle nod. Sighing in relief. “As your true self, Astraeus will always be with you. Remember, Izuku, we wear many masks as we go through our lives. We are never just one person.”  
  


_Justice does not rest._

Astraeus’ presence re-appeared at the edges of his mind.

“As a fair warning, if perhaps a bit late,” Minato said, putting a hand on Izuku’s shoulders. “Having multiple Persona is a mess and you’ll probably feel sick for a while. The second you walk out of here you’re going to hate me.”

“You didn’t think I should know that before you made me do this?”

“Look, you want to talk about headaches, I’ll tell you about that time I was a door for two hundred years.”

Izuku decided not to ask for elaboration. The headache was already growing. Roland and Astraeus were getting along, it seemed, but-

_**Suit of Swords. What a great and intoxicating experience.** _

Izuku finished the tea before leaving. Elizabeth waved him goodbye.

###

_**I Am Thou, Thou Art I-** _

_**Pitiful.** _

Ochako gasped, kicking the thin sheets off her as she rolled off her bed. Her breathing was haggard, unable to properly inhale. She coughed, sweat rolling off her face and onto the ground as she propped herself up on her knees and hands.

_**Will you stay scared forever?** _

“No,” she gasped out, her nails digging into the cold hard floor of her room, leaving small streaks of blood. Her body trembled. The image of Stain’s hand was coming from the ground, ready to take her again. Ready to use her to hurt her friends.

_**Stand tall, then, fool.** _

She did. Her body was like possessed, her back twisting backwards as she clawed at an itch on her face. Something was stuck near her eyes. A mask. A mask that came from nothing, dancing in her vision like fire. She pulled, inch by inch ripping skin off her face-

_**You must remember, Uraraka Ochako, a contract that defies fear. Do not fall for the whims of fate.** _

The mask was off. Light exploded off her body. She could see the red sky outside. The world where Stain had taken her. The fire that gathered around her and became a figure above. An almost plain dress she had seen in those ancient cowboy movies, a glass-shaped mask that looked at her in the face of a stern woman.

She sat atop a horse, rifle in hand. Mary spun it, holding the rifle with a confidence that Ochako could only envy.

_**We women must make our own fate.** _

Ochako reached out, noticing her own clothes had changed. She had white gloves on, and an outfit not unlike the costume she had requested from the support department. In the reflection of the window, she could see a mask of glass over her eyes.

_**I am Mary Fields, in accordance to the contract, we will deliver justice.** _

Ochako grabbed her phone, calling Izuku.

**###**

**Persona: Stagecoach Mary**

**Arcana: Lovers  
**

****

****

**Disposition: Gun, Wind Magic, Healing**

###

**Persona: Roland**

**Arcana: Suit of Swords**

**Disposition:** _**Physical** _

###

**Persona: Astraeus (God)**

**Arcana: Star**

**Disposition: Physical, Bless Magic, Cleanse**

###

**Persona: ???**

**Arcana: Justice(** ¿ **)**

**Disposition: Physical, Curse Magic, Wind Magic**


	12. The Hymn of Blood

**AN: Wow, a flashback start, I suppose I should’ve just put this scene in front of the last chapter but I feel like people rarely go back to check the updates and it’s not really out of place here either.**

**I feel like a real anime fic writer now :v**

**(Also wow, over 50k words now. Imagine that, a whole Nanowrimo but not in November :V)**

**###**

“ _From what we figure, Persona users are usually created, I would say, in a time of need,” Ren said. “Morgana knows the details better, but sometimes he says that it’s just one of life’s great mysteries.”_

“ _Morgana?” Izuku asked, blinking. “The cat? That Morgana?”_

“ _He’s not just a cat,” Ren said, shrugging. “Anyway, that’s besides the point.”_

_Izuku sat there, watching as the three people who had gathered in front of him were having a silent conversation. After confronting Makoto with his theory that she, too, was a Persona user, the laughing Ren had quickly taken the lead to confirm it._

_His theory was true, as was the theory that Ren was aware._

_What he didn’t expect was Ren’s own revelation as a Persona user. And their confirmation that Ryuji, too, had that power. When the topic of training came up, there was no doubt in his mind that they were the best possible mentors he could have asked for._

_And Morgana, he supposed, wherever the furball was hiding recently._

_Which is why Ryuji was called over. There were… things to discuss. Eventually, Makoto was the one who took the lead, standing in front of the other two to tell him all she knew._

“ _We used to be a vigilante group,” Makoto confessed. Izuku turned his head slightly, as if trying to make sure that he was hearing right by pointing his ear into their direction. “Our exploits had caused our name to spread all over the greater Tokyo area, but it was also during that time that All Might had come to Japan.”_

“ _He took your fame?” Izuku asked, raising an eyebrow. Makoto shook her head._

“ _He made our job easier, by causing such a commotion all of Japan we were able to continue our work without any issues. The people who ended up causing Masayoshi Shido to confess, we did that.”_

_Izuku’s jaw set at the name, and the confession of the vigilante work that had caused his father to lose all he had. He wasn’t sure what to feel, besides the gratitude for their honesty. Ryuji, still unaware of his connection to Shido, looked more than proud of himself._

“ _As Ren said.” Makoto crossed her arms over her chest, frowning. “Persona users are there for a reason, some kind of divine intervention or whatever you want to call it. Something strange is happening, villains who grow more powerful and seemingly vanish without a trace between incidents, from your explanation of what happened with Stain, we’ve concluded that the awakening of your Persona and whatever is causing the villains to grow restless and bold are related.”_

“ _You don’t sound very surprised,” Izuku said, his voice weak. More villains on the street like Stain? Or rather, hidden in that world that lets them move along without any concern?_

“ _Because I’ve had my suspicions, you just confirmed them,” Makoto said. She nodded at Ren. “He has a nose for Persona users, so from the day you walked in he was sure you’d awaken.”_

“ _Did you check on me because of that?” Izuku asked. Makoto shook her head quickly._

“ _Of course not, regardless of whether or not you would awaken, Ren takes his job as probation officer seriously. If he doesn’t have time, I’m the only person he can rely on.”_

“ _Hey now,” Ryuji said, sounding vaguely insulted. “You know damn well I’m just as willing to help out.”_

“ _Yes,” Makoto said, grinning at him. “You’re also the best person to leave a bad first impression when running around with a kid on probation. You’re like a brother to me, Ryuji, but you need to work on your image.”_

“ _Tough shit,” Ryuji muttered, pulling on a bit of his hair with his fingers. “You say that like there’s no blond heroes running around saving the day.”_

“ _None with a scowl like yours. You should smile more, babe.”_

_Makoto and Ryuji kept glaring at each other. Ren walked between them, putting a hand on each of their shoulders and pushed them slightly apart._

“ _You know our secret now,” Ren said. “A few details we can’t explain at the moment aside. If you want training, we’re the best at what we do. I may be out of practice, but any questions you have you can ask me.”_

“ _So, you’re all Persona users,” Izuku said, summarizing it more for himself than for them. “Not just you, but your friends.”_

“ _The others from our group are not in the city, two are traveling the world, one is running her company-”_

“ _And Persona are pretty strong, super versatile quirk-like manifestations of… yourself?” Izuku asked. Ren nodded. “If you’re this strong, and you used to be vigilantes, why, err, I mean.”_

_He sighed, straightening his back._

“ _Why-,” Izuku hesitated for a moment more, trying to find the right way to put his thoughts into words. After a moment of thought, he decided to be blunt. “Why didn’t you become heroes too?”_

_Ren took a moment to answer. Long enough for Izuku to wonder if he had hit a sore topic. As he moved to apologize, Ren raised his hand and shook his head, speaking up._

“ _We all have our reasons,” Ren said. “I wanted to take things easy, our friends pursued other careers. Of course we try out to help where we can, but it’s not the same as the years of training that Makoto had gone through since then.”_

“ _I considered it,” Ryuji said, shrugging. “But my mom got… kinda sick, and I ended up dropping out of school to help around the house. I didn’t have it in me to go into a field where she’d end up worrying too much.”_

_Izuku swallowed. It was a consideration he had as well, but before the incident his mother had been nothing but supportive. He supposed that there were more similarities than differences between himself and the… Phantom Thieves, but-_

“ _I understand,” Izuku said, bowing his head slightly. “Sorry for prying too much. Everyone has their own circumstances, right? I’ll be at the gym tomorrow after school.”_

_In the end this is a matter of trust, and as much trust was being built between them, certain things were not so easily revealed. Ren looked off, saying the things he was saying. And he was aware of it, no doubt._

_Izuku walked to the stairs and up to his room, bidding goodnight to his mentors._

“ _Well, the kid’s full of surprises,” Ryuji said, scratching the back of his head. “I guess I’ll see him for the workout tomorrow. Need anything from me?”_

“ _No, that’d be all,” Makoto said, slumping into one of the chairs. “Thank you, Ryuji. See you tomorrow.”_

“ _Sure thing,” Ryuji said, shrugging as he walked to the door. “Good night.”_

_Makoto and Ren were left alone. Ren was rubbing the bridge of his nose, pushing the glasses up slightly._

“ _You lied to him,” Makoto said. Ren said nothing. “I don’t understand why, he’s not the kind of person who’d judge you for your choices.”_

“ _It’s because he’s not that kind of person I feel ashamed. What I did was selfish, I have no right to play hero.”_

_She had no words to comfort him with. Nothing she could say that would make him think differently. “Maybe the one who needs a change of heart is you, Ren.”_

“ _Sometimes,” Ren said, pursing his lips. “It’s not about what you use your powers for rather than what you avoid using them for. I’ve achieved my goal, I was content with who I was, the world didn’t need Joker anymore.”_

“ _And now?” Makoto asked. Ren leaned over the counter, his knuckles white as he clenched a first over the hardwood._

“ _Now I think the world might have someone better suited,” Ren said, looking over to the stairs where Izuku had just left through._

###

Izuku stared with wide eyes, watching as Ochako’s Persona took shape. The horsewoman stood as tall as Astraeus, and taller still due to the trusty steed right under her. She said nothing, but the stern glass face made Izuku consider hiding.

Ochako looked to be as awed as him.

It took him a moment to realize just what kind of situation they were in. Rather than taking their run, Ochako had all but run up into his room at their usual time, dragging him along when she saw him getting ready. Having a girl in his room for the first time was strange, but Ochako looked too out of it for him to address it.

“I… think it’s like your quirk,” Ochako said, revealing once more that under the bubbly facade of a friendly neighborhood girl lay a more inquisitive mind than she let on. “She calls herself a Persona and, I don’t know, that’s what you called your quirk, right?”

“Yes,” Izuku said. Ren was almost certainly aware of this already. “I wanted to talk to you about something, before we go into detail about this.”

She turned to him, the Persona vanishing into thin air. Beads of sweat were on her forehead, showing the exhaustion of her almost sleepless night and the early summoning of her Persona that had all but knocked him out as well.

“I don’t know if I can explain it well,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Ren-san and Makoto-san, they both know about what Persona are. It’s apparently not a quirk-”

“It’s a manifestation of thought,” Morgana said, crawling in from the now open window. Ochako jumped at the voice, the mask appearing on her face almost instinctively. “The shape of your heart manifesting to become your-”

“Where were you?” Izuku asked. Ochako looked at him, clearly confused at his ease of talking to the now speaking cat.

“Aww,” Morgana said, forgetting whatever bragging speech he was going to hold in order to coo at Izuku in a mocking voice. “Were you worried about lil’ old me?”

“I was mostly wondering which family you were mooching off while I was sitting here alone,” Izuku said. He _did_ miss the cat, but he wasn’t going to admit that so freely. Morgana had become something of a constant in his life that he wasn’t a fan of losing this soon. Sighing, he turned to Ochako, whose mouth was opening and closing repeatedly. “Ochako, this is Morgana, the talking cat that apparently is audible to Persona users.”

“Okay?” Ochako said, uncertain of what else to say. The girl turned to Morgana again, bowing slightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Morgana-san?”

“Ahaha, pretty girls don’t need to use any honorifics for me,” Morgana said. Izuku shook his head, walking forward and sitting down on the bed. Morgana moved out of the way.

“I’m not good at explaining this, but I think Ren needs to know,” Izuku said. “I think he already _does_ know, I just don’t, I’m not sure.”

“I get it,” Ochako said, shrugging. “It’s not supposed to be public, but… I have a new quirk. I can’t hide that, can I?”

“You’re not going to hide it,” Morgana said, “and I can give you pointers, there’s no need for you to hold back. You’ve received this power for a reason, Uraraka Ochako.”

“This isn’t a magical girl pitch, is it?” Ochako asked in a low voice. Izuku couldn’t help himself, his shoulders shaking as laughter bubbled out of his mouth. The humor was enough to break the spell of the serious air around them. Ochako giggled.

Roland laughed merrily as well. Happy, somehow, in a way that felt much more human than Astraeus.

###

For what felt like the fiftieth time, Izuku was sitting in the principal’s office.

“As you know, I am now aware of your… parentage,” the principal said. Izuku nodded. As it stood, though he wished he could avoid it, the principal was someone with a great deal of influence and this secret would be too dangerous to keep to themselves forever.

Principal Nezu was, besides Ren and Makoto, perhaps the only person that Izuku felt he could trust, not just due to the deal of having his record stricken, but also due to the fact that the small mammal-ish quirk user had proven himself to put the good of his students above all else.

“Y-yeah,” Izuku said, looking away. “I knew he would tell you, just not this soon. Is… is everything alright?”

“It depends on the definition of alright, I suppose,” Nezu said. Though it was hard to read the expression on his face, Izuku would have pegged it as a ‘sad smile’ if he were forced to put it into words. “If it were just Stain, it would have been no issue, but there’s something… finicky when it comes to politics, politicians and those who have the ear of politicians.”

“I see,” Izuku said, his shoulders slumping. “Do I have to leave the school?”

“No no, of course not, as I told you before, your past doesn’t matter to us,” Nezu said. Izuku breathed a sigh of relief out of his nose. “This is about your participation in the sports festival.”

Izuku stood up, his eyes wide.

“I-I don’t understand, you told me it should be fine,” Izuku said, his fingers digging into his jacket as his hand rose towards his chest. “I wanted to prove myself there-”.

“Which was before you found out about your father,” Nezu said. The usual cheerful voice was on, but the last word came out like a spiteful curse. “The Sports Festival is an international broadcast, recordings of it will exist for many years to come. The people aware of your parenthood will see it as us grooming you for the hero course, avoiding the punishment that they’ve managed to push at you.”

“You think they might try something if they see me participate?”

“I know they will,” Nezu said, smiling. “Humans are predictable to a fault. People who think that they’re owed something, especially revenge, they’re the worst of them. This isn’t just to protect you, it’s to protect other students in U.A.”

“What am I supposed to do then?” Izuku asked, sinking back into the chair. “I understand, but it still feels unfair.”

“The Sports Festival is not just a competition between students,” Nezu said, nodding. “It’s also a scouting opportunity for agencies to see which heroes have the potential to be trained by them during a work experience period. The work experiences and internships, they’re… not something that we could have had you participate in anyway.”

So it was hopeless, wasn’t it? Izuku’s grip on his jacket tightened until the knuckles of his fist were chalk white. “I did want to keep my head down until the probation was over.”

Those were his words to Ren, but now they felt so hollow. Keeping his head down, to him, was more a promise of not making a mess of things. In the end, who his father was would haunt him beyond all of this, even if the record ends up stricken.

“However,” Principal Nezu’s smile took a dangerous edge, and Izuku perked up, swallowing at the strange expression. “We have something else planned for you, which will hopefully keep your face out of the headlines. A certain heroine from Tokyo was requesting a student help her with some work during the next few weeks. Usually we have management students who help out in the agencies here in Musutafu, so we have no one to spare.”

Izuku blinked. There was no way he wasn’t talking about Makoto. The principal wasn’t particularly subtle with this pitch, but it wasn’t like

“She has said something about work related to a rather strange case, involving villains in Tokyo becoming more bold, which has increased her workload.”

Izuku stood again, this time with his fist balled up in front of him, a resolute expression on his face.

“I’ll do it,” Izuku said. Actual hero work, live and on stage? There was no way he would be able to resist, not when Makoto had already made the notice that his awakening might be related to her case. “What about Ochako, if Makoto isn’t there, err-”

“We have more than enough heroes to protect her, and if worst comes to worst, we can offer to shelter her inside the school until the thing has blown over.”

“A-alright.”

Nezu’s smile widened as he pulled out a few papers from a drawer under his desk. He pushed them forward. The one on the front had the words ‘liability disclaimer’ printed boldly at the top of the document.

“Please have Amamiya-san sign this and bring it with you tomorrow,” the principal said. Izuku smiled a smile that could rival the sun of Helios, so bright and blinding that the principal had to squint as the boy gathered all the documents and rushed out of the room.

###

Izuku sat at lunch, the papers from earlier in his bag. Ochako, Iida and Tsuyu were sitting together as he joined them. The cafeteria was full as usual, the buzz and topic of choice was about the upcoming sports festival, as was expected. The higher years looked rather happy about it, as wistful smiles and memories resurfacing as they sat in remembrance of stories that they had happened last year.

Ochako had ended up registering the new aspect of her quirk, as was Ren’s suggestion for the quirk registration, with Recovery Girl. She would join him in Ryuji’s gym for more training, but with the new revelations the companionship during the training would have to wait.

“Is everything alright?” Ochako asked, tilting her head at him. It was hard not to see that he was giddy. The idea of going to Tokyo for a few weeks with Makoto was welcome.

“Principal Nezu said I’m… not allowed to participate in the sports festival,” he said. Her expression shifted from a hopeful smile into an angry scowl. Izuku quickly waved his hands in front of him. “It’s because of a really good reason, I-I won’t be in U.A. for a few weeks. I’m going to Tokyo for a bit.”

“Tokyo?” Iida asked, his voice just a bit too loud. “This early in the school year? There’s too much material you’d have to catch up on, are you sure that will be fine?”

“I’m top of the class,” Izuku said. It wasn’t to brag, but in a way there were people who needed the attention of the teachers more than him, and he was more than glad to leave their watchful gazes for just a bit. “I’m also going to be, err, interning in an agency helping around with paperwork and stuff. It’s… practical experience.”

“Of course,” Iida said, seemingly happy with the reasoning. Tsuyu didn’t look quite convinced.

“But aren’t you working on becoming a hero student? The festival is supposed to be our opportunity to sell ourselves to possible future employers.”

“It’s complicated,” Izuku said. Iida nodded once more. In a lower voice, Izuku continued, giving Iida his own reassuring nod. “Not… really related to my probation. I was a bit upset at first but after the principal explained everything to me, I agreed. I should be back after the festival concludes, I should be leaving in two days if my guardian signs off on it.”

“Two days?” Iida asked, blinking. He pushed his glasses up, surprised at the short notice. Ochako’s reaction however was much more extreme. Her breath hitching for a moment, she looked like she wanted to speak up. Iida took note. “Uraraka-san?”

“Are you going with Makoto-san?” Ochako asked. Iida and Tsuyu looked confused, even more so when Izuku nodded. Giving him a shaky smile, she nodded. “That’s good. What about the… neighborhood watch?”

“Someone else will take over,” Izuku assured. He was still certain that Stain wouldn’t attack them again, but Ochako’s experience with the man had clearly left her in distress. “It’s going to be alright.”

“Yeah,” Ochako said, unable to smile. Izuku could see it, the attempt to force the corners of her mouth to comply, the lack of earnest emotion in her eyes. “I know, it just feels kinda sudden, you know?”

He hesitated for a short moment before reaching out, putting a hand on her shaking fist which had been balled under the table. “It won’t be long, I can ask Makoto if you can come with us-”

“No,” Ochako said, shaking her head too vehemently to come off as casual. Her free hand came up to her head as if nursing a headache. She continued speaking, half-heartedly attempting to put a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” Tsuyu said bluntly. Her croaky voice made Ochako start at being addressed, as if the girl had suddenly forgotten where they were. “You should go to the nurse.”

“No, it’s all good,” Ochako said. He could _feel_ it. Something pulling on her, he could liken it to the feeling of Astraeus’ hands on his heart to give him courage. “I-I have to-”

Ochako’s voice was becoming fainter. Izuku’s hand squeezed hers. She relaxed slightly. The strange stress that was building up in her spilled over.

She turned her hand, grabbing his in a grip so tightly he almost screamed out in pain. He flinched, but kept his hand in hers. A strange flash of yellow was glinting in her eyes for a moment. Something resonated in him.

 _I have to make my own fate_.

Her heart spoke to him. The tight grip loosened after a solid minute and Ochako put a lid over her food, leaving it half-eaten for the first time since he had met her.

###

Toga Himiko was incredibly happy. She hummed as she walked down the street, the pigtails that she had done her hair in today swinging back and forth.

Every step she took caused the street lamps to flicker and die, every hum from her mouth caused scratches in the glass in the windows of the shops that were lining the broadwalk next to her. It was pitch black, a beautiful night, almost perfect, but something was missing.

The light above Izuku’s room was off, despite the early hour. She could hear no voices in the café. The smell of her obsession was nowhere near, the trail, it was-

“Elizabeth.” The name, whispered, like an ominous incantation. The woman appeared above her, a dress in the most beautiful crimson shade, a faceless head that revealed a fanged grin, a rapier in her hands.

The woman lashed out, the rapier cutting the air rather than stabbing it, revealing lights and scents. She knew them all by heart. The black one that smelled like something burned was Amamiya Ren, the yellow one that kind of sizzled in the back of her throat was Sakamoto Ryuji, the pink one that smelled like a grand mix of intoxicating fear and love was Uraraka Ochako.

The blue one with the dangerous edge was Nijima Makoto.

Leaving the place, together with the green and gold of one Midoriya Izuku.

She leaped onto the roof and watched as the smell thinned out. She turned, looking around, her leaps taking her further and higher until she managed to find the tallest building in the neighborhood.

  
From here, she could see their destination. The lights, burning bright in the distance-

“Tokyo,” she muttered. A shiver ran down her spine, and she hugged herself as the cold evening air began to creep up and into her bones. “We will see each other soon, then. I want to see you fight more…”

Himiko jumped off the roof and landed on the ground with the soft graces of a cat. She turned to leave, hoping she had enough money in the wallet she had taken off someone this morning to make a trip to Tokyo this late.

“Hey,” someone called out to her. She turned once more, finding herself face to face with a masked man. “Unlicensed quirk use is forbidden in public, miss.”

Himiko smiled at the hero. Elizabeth gave a curt bow.

###

_**Persona: Elizabeth Bathory** _

_**Arcana: Lovers (** _ _¿_ _**)** _

_**Disposition: Physical, Curse Magic, Healing(?)** _


End file.
